


Amber Run: Fickle Game

by VivianKnorr



Series: Amber Run [2]
Category: South Park
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-26
Updated: 2020-05-09
Packaged: 2021-03-01 21:00:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 9
Words: 22,536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23853457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VivianKnorr/pseuds/VivianKnorr
Summary: No one walks through Hell and returns unscathed.
Relationships: Craig Tucker/Tweek Tweak
Series: Amber Run [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1718893
Comments: 59
Kudos: 56





	1. Stranger

**Author's Note:**

> If you liked the teeth rotting fluff of Part 1 then I have news for you! This is a lot darker. I couldn't let these boys off the hook so easily.

Ft. Collins is a beautiful city. The warm weather and soft sunshine puts me at ease. We finished moving in all our furniture and I felt like the worst was behind us. Craig started school shortly after getting settled it and with my experience working at my parent’s coffee shop, I easily got a barista job across from the college. The constant influx of customers would normally have overwhelmed me. But when Craig visited, the stress just melted away. My life was finally perfect.

I hold the warm mug of coffee in my hands and lean into the cute black-haired boy sitting as close to the counter as possible.

I set the coffee down on the worn table and collapse in the chair next to him. “Learn anything new?”

“I would be wasting my money if I wasn’t leaning anything new, babe.” Craig raises his head and gazes back at me with a gentle smile touching his lips.

I let out a small laugh and lean back in my seat, letting my tired body relax for the short ten minutes I have on my break.

“How’s your shift going, babe?”

I breathe out an exasperated sigh and fold my arms on the table, “Exhausting. There are students coming in and out at all hours of the day. I honestly will take the rushes back compared to this.” I rest my forehead on my folded arms and try not to close my eyes for too long.

“When is your shift over?” He asks.

I groan into my arms, “3 more hours.”

“That’s not too bad.”

I tilt my head up and stare at his endearing expression. His black jacket from high school has been replaced by a dark grey, lightweight sports jacket with a crew neck undershirt. I almost never see him in his old black beanie. He’s seemed to have changed so much since we’ve left South Park, but I’m still stuck in an apron and covered in coffee stains.

“I guess you’re right.” I mutter.

I stretch out my aching arms and my right hand brushes against a warm ceramic cup. Just as my hand pulls away a shattering echo rings though the shop. My eyes widen and face floods with heat. I jump out of my seat and cringe before the sound of my chair hitting the floor can reach my boss’s ears.

“Oh, Jesus I’m sorry!” I throw my hands up to my hair and scurry behind the counter, grabbing the nearest towel.

“I’m so sorry!” I scrub at the hot coffee on the floor as the searing liquid scalds my hand.

“I better get a free coffee after this.”

I glance up to a young woman with a backpack slung over her shoulder and a scowl etched on her face.

“Y-Yes of course.”

I stumble my way around the coffee bar and dig though the closet for the nearest broom. I brush the broken ceramic pieces into the small dust pan and try not the let the fragments fall as my hands shake bringing it to the garbage can. I slip around the counter and jolt up from behind the cash register. 

“I’m sorry ma’am. What can I get you?”

She places her order with annoyance dripping in her voice. She finally turns back around and I let out a long sigh and lean my hands on the counter. My redden face tips up to Craig sitting several feet away. His eyes are crinkled as his hand covers his mouth and shoulders shake. Despite my warm cheeks and racing heart, my lip curves up into a small smile looking at his handsome face. 

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

“We need to go grocery shopping, Craig.”

His head is buried in his books as his hand writes at a steady pace. He lets out a small grunt, still scribbling in his notebook. I walk behind him and place my hands on the desk around him. I lower my head to his ear, brushing them lightly with my lips. 

“Babe. Groceries.”

His pen falls onto the desk and a light chuckle reverberates in his chest. “That tickles.” He says with a smile.

I slowly stand up, dragging my hands up his arms, “I have Saturday off if you want to come with me.”

He turns to me with exhausted eyes. “I’d love to babe but I have a test on Monday… I just can’t seem to wrap my mind around this material.”

I twist my mouth and make a low humming noise, “That’s fine. Add whatever you need to the list and I’ll pick it up.”

He gazes up at me and brings his hand up to the back of my neck. He pulls me down into the comfort of his mouth, relaxing my whole body with just a brush of his lips.

“Thanks, sweetheart.” He says softly, “I’ll go with you next time.”

He rises from his chair and a pen falls from his lap onto the floor. I pick it up and place it back on the desk without a second thought. I glance up to him looking away with a vacant expression.

“I really don’t mind, Craig. I wish you wouldn’t make that face every time.” I continue to watch him as he stares into the corner of the room.

“…Thanks, Tweek.” He pauses and lets out breathy sigh, “I’m hoping one day I’ll get used to it.”

He turns from me and makes his way down the hall.

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

“You wouldn’t believe how packed it was! I had to fight some old women for the last orange!”

I push our apartment door closed with the sole of my shoe and my stomach twists taking in the eerie stillness of the room. The only light is from Craig’s desk as it sits vacant; all the curtains are pulled down. The music normally floating in the air has stopped playing.

“Craig?”

I hug the bags closer to my chest as I turn the corner of the couch. My eyes widen and mouth falls open as the groceries crash onto the ground.

“Craig!”

I rush to his unconscious body lying still by the TV, a single piece of paper in front of his outstretched hand.

“Craig! Craig!”

I push his body over and cradle his head in my hands. His chest moves slightly but his eyes remain closed.

“Craig!” I yell, my voice shaking as fear floods my entire body.

“Mhmm?” 

His eyes flutter open and he sits up from the floor. He groans quietly and presses his hand to his forehead.

“Did you hit your head?!” I say as my heart pounds feverishly in my chest.

“No. I’m fine.” He murmurs, hand still pressed to his forehead.

“Should I call an ambulance?!”

“No! Tweek, I’m fine!” He snaps.

His eyes burn into me but concern still clouds my mind.

I reach out for his hand, “If you hit your head we need to-“

“No!” He jerks his hand away and anger flickers across his face, “Shut the fuck up, Tweek!”

My body flinches back and my breath catches in my throat. _He’s never spoken to me like that before._ My heart envelopes with ice and my chilled body starts trembling.

His brows draw together and eyes flick down to the floor. His shallow breathing picks up as his shaking lips part.

I slowly rise from the floor and stare down at person I know I love. My hand extends out to him, my icy fingertips still trembling. He places his unusually cold hand in mine and draws himself up, bracing himself on me as he stumbles forward.

His eyes stare into mine with a painful heaviness, “I’m so sorry, Tweek.” He whispers.

I gaze up at him with no words to say, my tongue is frozen, my lips are dry. I take a few steps away from him and start picking up the groceries from the floor.

**  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

I’d be dishonest if I said everything went back to normal after that day. He seemed to be more upset about the incident than I was. He started studying more at the library and stopped coming by the coffee shop. I could tell he was pushing me away. I just didn’t know why. We’ve overcome greater obstacles in our past. He mentioned his grades were slipping too. With all the studying he’s been doing I could tell how frustrated he was. I want to be with him. I want to comfort him. But that’s hard to when he’s never here.

“Hey! Token and Clyde are in the area!”

I rush to Craig sitting at his desk with a hopeful grin stretched across my face. My fingers wrap around his still left hand as I beam down at him.

“Wanna invite them over?!” I say excitably.

He rests his pen down on his desk then pauses before glancing up at me. His cobalt eyes stare into mine and my cheeks fill with warmth. His eyes soften and his scarred lip tips up into a smile. It’s been so long since he’s looked at me like that.

“Whatever you want, sweetheart.” He says quietly.

He pushes himself up from the desk and hesitates before placing his hands at my hip. I step closer to him and wrap my arms around his waist, gazing up at him with my lips parted. He reaches his hand to my cheek and strokes his thumb across my cheekbone. His eyes close and head tilts as his lips melt to mine. _I’ve missed his soft lips._ I bring my arms up and drape them over his strong shoulders. My mouth opens and tongue searches for his. His mouth is so warm, so intoxicating. _I’ve missed his scent._ I press my body further into his until our hearts beat as one. _I’ve missed this closeness._ His hand slides under my shirt and grazes lightly against my sensitive skin. _I’ve missed his warmth._ My breathing picks up into short gasps and he moans quietly into my mouth, making my knees weak. _I’ve missed his lustful sounds._ I pull away from him as our wet passion drips from my mouth. I gaze up into his heart-stopping, sapphire stare. I grab his hand and drag him into our bedroom. I’ve missed him so much.

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

“Hey guys!”

Token and Clyde stride into the apartment and scan our humble living room; their large overnight bags still slung around their shoulders. Clyde looks to me with his large brown eyes as his face lights up.

“Good to see you Tweek!” Clyde grins as he pulls me into a tight bear hug.

They drop their bags by the door then break out into glowing smiles once their eyes land on Craig.

“Craig! How’ve you been, bud!” Clyde says, nearly shouting.

“Good, thanks.” Craig greets them, rubbing his hand on the back of his neck.

Clyde makes himself at home as he plops himself down on the couch and reaches out for the remote, “How’s school been?”

“It’s been good, last few weeks have been rough though.”

Craig strides over to the couch and relaxes next to the arm rest.

“I’m sure you’ll do just fine. You’re the smartest guy I know.” Clyde says with his signature grin.

I make my way over to Craig and sit down next to him, resting my hand on his knee. Craig takes his hand and laces his fingers in mine as they continue their conversation.

“Is there anything you wanted to do while you’re down here, guys?” Craig asks.

“Not really, we’re just passing through.” Token says, resting his feet on the coffee table, “Thanks for letting us stay here for the night.”

“Well, we did bring booze if you guys were interested.” Clyde says, glancing over the group.

“I’m in.” Token says raising his hand.

“I’ll have some.” Craig says.

My head snaps to Craig and pulse races. He looks down at me with a gentle smile and squeezes my hand.

“I’ll be careful, babe. I promise.” He says quietly.

Clyde flips his head to me. “Tweek?”

“No, no. None for me. Thanks though.” I say, shaking my head.

Clyde leaps off the couch and races to his bag, pulling out several large bottles. He places them on the counter then starts rummaging around our kitchen.

“Where are your shot glasses?” Clyde asks, still throwing open our cabinets.

“We don’t have any.” Craig says, tilting his head towards Clyde.

“That’s fine! Regular glasses it is!”

The clank of glasses and opening bottles start being drowned out by the sound of the TV’s ever increasing volume. I shift closer to Craig and rest my head on his shoulder. The TV drones on in the background as Craig presses his lips to my hair. Clyde sweeps over to us and shoves an entire glass of alcohol into Craig's face. Clyde collapses back on the couch and I continue to watch the TV as the rowdy group of boys’ voice gets louder as the night gets darker. The sound of voices slurring attract my attention and I glance down at Craig’s glass, nearly empty. My eyes widen as I flick them to him. Craig’s cheeks are rosy and his voice slurred. Token and Clyde tip back in their seats, laughing at one of Craig's stories. I carefully pull the almost empty glass out of his hand and place it on the coffee table before leaning back into him.

“Tweek?”

I glance up at him, the sound of Token and Clyde’s voices fading into the background. 

“What?”

“What was that for?” His posture shifts away from me and he stares at me with an expression I don’t recognize.

“I’m worried about you, that’s all.”

“Don’t worry about me.” He says sternly.

He snatches his glass up from the coffee table and storms into the kitchen.

Unease sinks into my stomach when I rise to follow him.

The corner of my lips turn down, “I’m worried you might be over doing it. You told me you’d be careful.”

I push myself onto the counter as he slams the glass on the table and pours more alcohol into the cup until the acidic liquid touches the lip.

“This isn’t being careful, babe.” I say quietly, watching him take a large gulp.

“I don’t need you to tell me what to do.” His vacant eyes stare sharply into me.

“Please just listen to-“

“I’m tired of you telling me what to do!” Craig shouts.

Token and Clyde stop their conversation and flip their heads to us.

“You’re always telling me what to do and what not to do and I’m fucking sick of it!”

“Whoa.” Clyde rises from his seat and starts walking around to the counter.

“You never leave me alone! You never do anything! Sometimes I don’t even know why you're even here!” He yells, gripping onto the counter until his knuckles turn white.

“Craig I just-“

As my mouth opens to speak a forceful blow strikes me on the side of my face and I crumple to the floor. My vision blurs into a haze of white while my cheek throbs as blood pools in my mouth. I try to pull myself off of the floor as blood drips from out of the corner of my lip. Faint echoes of shouting and doors slamming ring through my aching head as a hand reaches around my arm and pulls me up.

“Holy shit! Are you okay, Tweek?!”

Token’s blurry face comes into view and my eyes flit around the room in search of Craig.

“Where’s Craig?!” I say as my voice breaks.

“He ran outside after he punched you. You need to take it easy Tweek. I can get you a hotel room for tonight.”

My head spins and metallic fluid still burns in my mouth. I stumble to the door and throw it open as I rush outside.

“-don’t you realize all he’s done for you?!”

My eyes draw to the sound of Clyde’s shouts in the darkness.

“He was with you when everyone else left!”

I trip over myself and scramble to my feet as the voices draw nearer.

“What the fuck is wrong with you to do something like that?!”

My heart hammers dangerously in my chest and cold sweat rolls down my spine when Clyde’s towering figure comes into view. Water drenches the hem of my pants as I race towards them. My cheek throbs with pain but my feet continue to carry me to him.

Clyde’s fists clench and nostrils flare, “You’re lucky I’m not beating the shit out of you right now!”

“STOP!” I shout as I fall onto my knees between them.

My hands slam into the ground and my heart beat pounds in my ear. I choke back a shaky cry watching my blood drip onto my hands below me.

“Clyde.” I say through strained gasps, “You and Token need to leave.”

“Jesus, Tweek are you-“

“Just leave!”

I continue staring at the blood drops on my hand as footsteps fade into the distance. I sit back on my knees and drag my hands on the concrete, a small trail of blood smearing on the ground below me. I try to calm my harsh breathing before turning my head towards Craig.

He sits on the ground. His legs pulled into his chest with his arms wrapped around him. His head is lowered and breathing uneven and labored. I stare at him with tears welling behind my eyes.

“Craig?” I whisper, a drop of blood falls from my lip.

He stays unmoving, head still buried in his knees.

I stumble as I raise myself up from the ground with aching knees and a throbbing head.

“Let’s go home, Craig.” I say softly.

I reach out with a trembling hand as his head lifts up. He stares back at me with shaking lips. All color had been drained from his face. His red-rimmed eyes gazed into mine with a sorrow that tears at my chest. He unwraps his arms from around himself and places his hand in mine.


	2. Darkness Has a Voice

**How are you doing, Tweek?**

Token’s message finds me as I lay on my bed, staring aimlessly at the ceiling. I flip my phone up and scan the message. I don’t want to answer, I don’t want to talk to them, but not answering would be worse.

**I’m fine.**

**If you need to get out of there let me know. Clyde and I can keep an eye on him.**

No, they can’t. He can’t drive. He can’t even pick up anything from the floor. If something happened to him no one would even know. I won’t leave him like that.

**I really am fine, Token. I’m not going to leave him.**

Anger and annoyance pulls my brows together. Craig has changed, that much is obvious. But deep down, part of me knew this would happen. No one walks through Hell and returns unscathed. 

**Promise me if anything like that happens again you’ll get yourself out of there. I’m worried next time will be worse.**

I glare at my screen and grip it tightly. Deep indents from the phones plastic case dig into the palm of my hand.

**I’m fine.**

I snap my phone shut and throw its weighty body into the wall, the sound of plastic fragments clank on the floor. I return my stare to the ceiling. Anger still boiling under my skin.

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

The swelling has gone down. All that remains is a faint yellow ring around my eye. I was never in pain, I was never upset with him, but he still hasn’t said a word to me all week. He hasn’t even looked at me. He sleeps on the couch. Leaves for school before I’m even awake. I still lay our bed, curled up in the sheets we picked out. Stuck with the memory of flipping through catalogues; playfully arguing over Hello Kitty sheets or race car sheets. Settling on red silky sheets, just like the kind Token had on his beds. I stare at his empty side every morning, hoping he will come join me, knowing he never will. This new routine of ours kills me slowly with every passing day. Our home has turned into a place of suffering and sorrow.

“We need to talk, Tweek.” He grips the handle of the bedroom door with his head lowered.

My eyes drift to him, nausea rising from my stomach. He turns to leave and I follow him to the couch in the living room. I lower myself next to him then he shifts further away from me. Deafening silence weighs down the stale air.

“What did you want to talk about?” I ask, my voice shaking.

I know what he wants to talk about. The divide he’s created, my desire to cross that divide. With the way he’s been avoiding me, this conversation was inevitable.

He turns his head away from me, “I don’t think we should live together anymore.” He says quietly.

A lump forms in my throat and I let out a shaky cry, “I don’t want to leave you.”

“I think it’s for the best.” He whispers.

My heart wrenches and a sudden pool of nausea creeps up my throat. His pain, his regret, washes over me, threatening to pull us under.

“… Do you not love me anymore?”

His head turns to me with translucent layer of tears glistening in his eyes. “Of course I love you. I love you more than anything. I love you with everything I am. You mean the world to me… You’re the person I cherish more than anything.”

Tears roll down his cheek as his eyes glaze over to the corner of the room.

“Then I’m not leaving you.” I say softly, “When I promised you forever I meant it.”

He exhales a shaking sigh, “I don’t want what happened last week to happen again. You deserve better. I can’t forgive myself for what I did to you.”

“I forgive you.”

His ocean blue eyes flick up to me, swimming with tears, lost at sea. “I’ve yelled at you multiple times this month, then I assaulted you. You shouldn’t forgive me so easily.” 

I purse my lips staring deeply into him, “What was going through your mind when you did those things?”

His eyes drift around the room. His brows knit together, “I-I don’t know. I wasn’t thinking of anything. It just happened before I realized what was going on.”

My hand reaches out to him slowly. He flinches back from my touch before his body relaxes again.

“Last year, I was told if you woke up, you may be a different person.” My voice softens, “I think those changes have started happening.” My fingers wrap around his palm and I hold back my tears. “Before we do anything, I think you should see a neurologist.”

He glances up to my somber face, his eyes still flooded with tears. My hand reaches up and brushes a tear away. My hand lingers on his flushed face as his sharp breathing calms under my touch.

“Okay,” His hand grazes against my arm, “I’ll go.”

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

He rests his head against the window as I drive him across town to a specialist. His knee bounces rhythmically and he shifts slightly in his seat. The town blurs by, my car humming along the damp asphalt. My finger taps the steering wheel when the light flickers to red ahead of us. I turn to Craig with my hand slowly reaching out to his knee. I want to reassure him, I want him to at least tell me what he’s feeling. I want to hear his voice. The light changes. I reluctantly pull my hand away and return it to the cracked, leather wheel. The small complex of wood paneled offices comes into view and I pull into the nearest parking space. I glance to Craig still staring out the window.

“Do you want me to go in with you?” I ask, my voices slightly shaking.

He raises his head from the window. A few seconds pass before he nods his head.

Calming elevator music plays in the background of the dim office. I sit down into the chair next to a murky fish tank. My eyes gaze around at the medical posters hung along the walls as Craig crosses to the front desk. My eyes flit about the room then linger on the large diagram on the wall. It shows a brain that has undergone trauma next to an atypical one. The differences are startling; my heart sinks remembering the tragic event that brought us here in the first place. He takes the seat next to me without a word and stares up at the poster with me.

“Tucker?”

Our attention draws to the woman in white as she stands near a door with a chart held to her chest.

“Do you want me to go with you?” I ask.

“Yes.” He says softly.

She leads us to an office filled with certificates posted around the room. Looming bookshelves filled with medical texts lean into us. Behind a large, intimidating mahogany desk an old man sits, barely visible behind stacks of papers. The man stands up with his arm outstretched to shake Craig's hand before turning to me.

“Who’s this?” He asks, a slight croak to his voice.

“This is my boyfriend, Tweek.” Craig says, lowing himself into a chair.

The man gives me a small smile then shakes my hand.

“Well, what brings you in today Craig?” He says, leaning back in his chair.

Craig stares at the man with a blank face, “I’ve been noticing some changes in my behavior. I want to know if it has anything to do with my accident last year.”

“Ah yes,” the man taps a chart on his desk, “I’ve read your file. You’re lucky you survived at all.”

“So I’ve been told.” Craig says monotone.

“Well,” the man flips open the folder and stares at an x-ray in front of him, “what kind of changes have you been noticing?”

Craig’s head turns slightly in my direction before snapping back to the doctor. “I’ve been… agitated. And impulsive. I’ve done things I would have never even though of doing before the accident. Violent things. And I can’t seem to remember anything as well as I used to.” His voice softens, “I feel like a different person now.”

The doctor turns his attention down, continuing to flip through the chart. I glance up at Craig as he stares absently at the man in the white coat.

“Traumatic brain injuries or TBI have a lot of unknown complications after the initial recovery.” He shuts the folder staring at Craig, “Impulsivity and aggression are common in those with a TBI. As is memory loss and poor concentration. Everyone is different and-”

“How long will it take to go away?” Craig interjects.

The man rests his elbows on his desk and folds his hands in front of his chin. “Some people months or years… but going through your file I read that you’ve been physical abused most of your life, is that right?”

“Yes.” He says quietly.

The man sighs. He brings his hands down from his face and glances up at him, “In these cases the behaviors can be lifelong.”

Craig’s face hardens and body turns ridged.

“But,” the doctor continues, “there are medications and therapies available to help elevate some of these new changes. I can refer you to a physiatrist that specializes in TBI cases if you’d like.”

I glace up at Craig, his expression still cold and hard.

“Okay.” He says softly.

The old man pulls open a drawer in his desk handing Craig a business card.

“I think going to see her will greatly benefit your situation.” He says with a brief smile.

The man stands up and shakes Craig’s hand again. “Give us a call if you need anything else, Craig.”

Craig stuffs the business card in his pocket and leaves the office with his head lowered.

He silently slides into the car resting his head back on the window. I turn to him with reassuring words swimming in my head but by the look on his face I can tell he wants to be left alone. We make the silent drive back to our home. He wanders to the couch and crashes down with his head buried in his hands.

I sit in the dark beside him reaching my hand out next to him. “What are you thinking?” I whisper.

“I’m going to be this way forever.” His voice breaks.

“There are medications that can help. And I will be with you through all of it… everything will be okay, babe.”

He pulls his hands down from his face as his chest hitches. He gazes at me with misty eyes and parted lips. I bring my hand up to his cheek brushing lightly against him with my thumb. He lets out a long breath. Tears begin falling down his face. He leans into me as his head falls onto my lap. His breathing picks up as his soft cries turn into heart wrenching sobs. I lean over him, my warm tear falling onto his cheek. I run my fingers through his hair and whisper reminders of why I’m still here, why I’ll always love him. His sobs turn back into small cries until he falls silent laying on me. I tilt my head back. And swallow the rest of the tears I have left.

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

“I’ve noticed some changes.”

“I feel numb.”

Craig sits at his desk staring mindlessly at the mess of papers in front of him. I crawl down on the floor next to his chair and crane my neck up to his vacant expression.

“Anything I can do to help?”

He looks down at me and his lip quirks into a small smile.

“What are you doing down there, babe?”

“Waiting for you to notice me.” I say with a grin growing on my lips.

His eyes spark with life and he breathes out a soft chuckle. He swivels his chair holding his hands out to me. I raise myself up. His hand reaches around to my lower back, guiding me closer until I’m straddling his lap.

“You’ve got my attention now.” He says as he wraps his arms around my waist.

“Finally.” I whisper, capturing his lips with mine. I bring my hands up to his face and slip my tongue into his mouth. The quiet apartment begins to fill with the sounds of our quiet moans. His hands grab my hips and pull me closer into him until his warm mouth is tipped up to mine. My tongue delves deeper inside his mouth. I tug on his white shirt, dragging my hands down his sinuous body. His breathing quickens. He slides his hand into my hair, softly griping as he pushes our lips further into each other. My precarious position works against me as my pants tighten. He captures my heavy breaths in his mouth, his teeth biting into my swollen lips. I run my hands down his arms and push myself off of the chair, leaving him watching me with a coal black stare. My hand grips onto his as I pull him up from his chair. He holds my hand tighter and throws me back into himself. My heart pounds and cheeks flush. His warm kisses become more demanding. Our mouths are locked together; I couldn’t pull away if I tried. Why would I want to? His hand slides down to my throbbing groin. His touch warms me, ignites me. My breathing comes out in short gasps into him. My pants become too tight to bear.

“How about I take you to the bedroom and take care of this for you?” He breathes into my ear.

His velvety voice sings throughout my body, my cheeks flare and body shivers.

“Yes.” I whisper, unable to take my eyes off of his possessive stare.

He turns from me. Casually walking into our bedroom, leaving me starving for more.

I scramble to the bedroom with an aching need driving my mind wild. He sits on the side of the bed with his legs spread apart, beckoning me to come closer with just a nod of his head. I wander to him as his hands grip my hips; he pulls me closer to him. His lithe fingers begin to unbutton my pants. His lips press to my stomach as the zipper slowly lowers. I breathe out a sigh of relief. My pants tumble to the floor. I tug off my shirt, sweat building on my chest. He draws his gaze up and down my body before pulling off the rest of my clothes with a slight lick of his lips. I crawl over him and slide his shirt up over his head. My fingers trace along the field of scars on his body. Deep gashes from shattered glass flash over my eyes. The still images of his lifeless body are forever branded in my soul. His soft breathing takes me back to the ventilators rhythmic hum. The same tears that poured from my eyes that first night leak slowly onto his chest now. I lower my head and softly brush my lips over the jagged scar wrapping along his shoulder.

“You’re so beautiful.” I murmur as my voice cracks.

His body jolts under me. My watery eyes draw up to his softened expression. His hand reaches out to my face and caresses my cheek with a delicate touch. My eyes gently close. I rest my head on his warm hand, a touch of safety, of trust.

“I love you.” He whispers.

I lower myself to him and graze the scar along his lip with mine, pausing before giving him a kiss filled with all the love I have. His whole demeanor shifts. My kisses become longer, softer. His warm hands move down my body until he brushes against my length. He strokes me softly, calmly; my body relaxes into a state of ease as we continue to breathe each other in. 

I moan quietly into his shoulder, “I love you too.”

He starts unzipping his pants. His mouth finds mine again in the shelter of our room. His lips part into mine as my tongue explores the deep protection of his mouth.

“I love you more than anything.” I whisper into him. My hips lower onto his jeans.

“Can you take your pants off?” I ask, running my hand up his inner thigh.

His mouth moves away from mine. His eyes drift down as he swallows.

“No.” He says quietly, his cheeks suddenly turning scarlet.

I reach down to his pants and quickly draw my hand away; a repressed smile tries to reach my lips. I lie on my back next to him taking calm even breaths. My mind tries to conjure up the most embarrassing moments of my life.

“I’m sorry, Tweek.” He mutters into the air.

I roll on my side towards him and rest my arm over his chest.

“Don’t be.” I say, pressing my lips to his cheek.

He lets out a long sigh, “I thought more foreplay would work.” He says, turning his head away from me.

“It’s the meds.” I say, the repressed smile making its way to my lips.

“What do you mean?” He turns back to me, puzzled expression spread across his face.

“The Fluoxetine? I’ve been on it before. Kills your sex drive.”

His lip tips into a small smirk. “When were you on Fluoxetine, babe?”

Heat flashes across my face, “Uh… 16. I think.” I know it was 16. I remember that year.

“Uh huh… and just how did it kill your sex drive at 16, babe?”

I know what he’s getting at. I know he just wants me to say it.

“I didn’t… you know…” My body starts to sweat, “masturbate.”

“Ohh, and how often did you masturbate, sweetheart?”

“After the meds, maybe once every few weeks.” I mumble.

“And before the meds?”

My mouth twists, fighting a smile. “Every day.”

Craig lights up and a cheeky smile grows on his face. “So. What did you masturbate to?”

He turns his body towards me and rests his head on my neck.

“… People.” I say though my tightened lips.

“Mhmm,” he murmurs into my neck, “what people?”

Heat burns my cheeks. I fidget awkwardly underneath him. _Fuck he’s going to make me say it._

I let out a deep sigh pulling my hands up to my face. “You.” I mutter though my fingers.

He laughs into my shoulder. His hand brings mine down from my face.

“I knew it!” He lifts his head, giving me a soft peck on the cheek.

I let out a long groan. My hand reaches up to cover my eyes again.

“It’s cute, babe.” He says with a smile in his voice, “I feel honored.”

I groan again and turn my gaze to him. A playful smile tips up the corner of his lip. His eyes alight with joy. I can’t control the grin creeping up my face as I let out a soft laugh.


	3. Dark Bloom

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Does it say 'explicit' up there? Yeah? Good.

My toes twist on the ground as my sore ankles finally pop. I lower my head yawning widely into my sleeve. My eyes gently close. The light piano music drifting through the room softly lulls me to sleep. 

“Are you even listening to me?”

My head snaps up to a young woman with strawberry blonde hair. Her face twisted into a scowl.

“Yes! Sorry. Could you repeat that?” I say, standing upright at the counter with my hands by my side.

“I said large iced caramel macchiato. Did you want me to repeat myself again?” She spits.

“No, no. I got it: Large iced caramel macchiato.” I say, trying to put on my best customer service smile.

“Good. And don’t drop it this time.”

My body tenses. I begin to recognize the overly annoyed girl from last month. She turns away from me and stands by the coffee bar with her foot tapping. As soon as I catch my breath, it gets swept away again when Craig walks through the door. He gives me a small smile before taking a seat at his usual table. I make the obnoxious woman her drink and hand it to her with a tight smile on my lips.

“Here you are. Iced caramel macchiato.” I say through my teeth.

The woman snatches her drink up without a word and twists away from me. I take a peek at the clock on the wall: 10 minutes until my break.

I glance over at Craig pulling out his books. My body turns ridged. The spiteful woman lowers herself on the wooden chair next to him. I creep closer to them and try to hear their conversation through the hiss of the espresso machine and giggling students. Craig gazes up at her with a warm smile painting his face. She leans further into him and shakes his hand, sitting back on her seat with her ankles crossed. Craig sits up to her, resting his elbows on the table.

“Tweek!”

I turn my head part way to my coworker shouting in my ear.

“White chocolate mocha!”

“Yeah, got it.” I grab the cup with shaking hands, trying to make the drink without tearing my eyes away from Craig.

I pass the drink to my coworker without so much as a glance. My eyes are still glued to Craig’s table.

Craig's face brightens as a brush of pink makes its way across his face. I press myself further into the coffee bar hoping I can somehow hear what they’re talking about.

Just as I’m about to leap over the counter, her hand reaches out to his face. I freeze mid jump. Her hand hovers just inches away from him, Craig sits there, unflinching. My heart wrenches and a lump forms in my throat. She slowly draws her hand back and places both her hands on her cheeks. Craig looks down and mouths words that have her shoulders shaking.

I grip tighter to the counter.

Sweat pools on my brows.

She stands up with a small wave as Craig watches her walk out the door.

“Tweek! Take your ten!”

I keep my stare focused on Craig as I rush around the corner, nearly knocking down our intricate display.

“What the hell was that?!” I say with panic soaking my words.

“What was what?” He says with his brows pulled in.

“Y-You,” I stammer, “and h-her!”

“What about it?”

“You were flirting with her!”

“Really? I was?” His confused expression turns to the door then back to me.

“Y-yeah! You were all blushing and, and smiling and she was about to touch your face and…”

“Tweek.” He stares at me with a pained look. “There’s something you and I need to talk about.”

My body freezes and heart stops cold.

He sighs, “We should have talked about this sooner. I’ve wanted to tell you this for a while now. I just didn’t know how.” 

I hold my breath as he inches his head closer. He stares into me with his sharp blue eyes, “I’m gay.”

His lips turn up into a grin that dimples his cheeks. And despite how upset I am, I fight the smile tugging on my face.

“Were you really jealous, babe?” He leans back in his chair and a smirk of amusement plays upon his face.

“Well… I mean… she was going to touch you face.” I say, turning my head down at the realization of how jealous I really was.

“In case you haven’t noticed, honey. I have a few scars on my face. People are interested. But no one has ever actually touched them. Well, except you of course.” He says, resting his elbows back on the table.

I let out a deep sigh and hang my head. “I know. I’m sorry. I was just thinking about all the changes you’ve been going though and I don’t know, I think I just got scared.”

He tips my chin up with his finger and stares into me with his azure eyes, “There is nothing for you to worry about. Even though I’m different now, I still love you. I will always love you. And I will never leave you. I promise.”

He leans back in his chair and tilts his head to the side. “I’d kiss you right now but you’re at work. So I’ll save that until we go home.”

He pulls out his notebook from his bag and flips through the pages.

“How are classes going now?”

“Better.” He says without looking up, “I’m able to retain the information at least. Staying focused is still an issue though.”

“Mhmm. Would a cup of coffee help?”

He draws his gaze up at me with the charming smile I fell in love with, “Coffee would be great, thanks Tweek.”

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

“Hey, babe?”

I sit cross legged on the couch with my head buried in my game. My eyes flick around the screen while everything else is a blur around me.

“Yeah?” I respond.

He sits down across from me in silence. I peer up at his concerned expression from behind the screen and place my game on the coffee table.

“I have to do a group project.” He pauses briefly, as if to collect his thoughts, “I was hoping we could work on it here… on one of your days off.”

His anxiety washes over to me. All the possible outcomes swirl in my head.

“Y-Yeah, of course. I’ll be here.”

He glances away and his face softens. “I don’t know what might happen… I’ve already said some off putting things. I don’t know what I’ll do if I get frustrated at them.” He says quietly.

He’s been vulnerable with me before, but being with him now brings on a whole new set of emotional awareness. I’ve slowly learned his stressors, his triggers, his limits. Before the accident, his expressions and postures told me everything I needed to know. But now, it’s the slight change of his tone, the flicker of his eyes, the subtle way his jaw moves, and the smallest breath of air he takes before he loses control.

“How many people will be here?”

“Four.”

My heart beats faster in my chest. As of now, he can do well with two, anymore is pushing it.

“Do they know?”

“No.” He says softly.

I let out a shaky breath. “I’ll take you to our room if I notice anything. Everything will be okay, babe.”

I reach out and take his hand in both of mine - flashing him a reassuring smile when he lifts his head up to me.

“I hope you're right.” He breathes out.

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

A light tapping on the door drives Craig and I apart as we sit wrapped in each other on the couch. His nervous glance reflects mine as he heads for the door. Four disheveled students file into the apartment with bags slung over their shoulders. One of them glances around our spacious living room with a haughty sneer marring his face.

“Damn Craig, how much of Daddy’s money did it take to get a place like this?” The boy scoffs.

_Oh shit._

“My dad paid for none of it. The courts did.” Craig says, turning to the blond boy with a blank stare.

All the students snap their heads to Craig. Silence settles over the room.

I jump up from the couch, “Hi, I’m Tweek!”

Three of them raise their hands to greet me as the blonde boy continues to stare at Craig.

“Hey, let’s get started.” A tall young woman places her books down in front of her and crosses her legs, cracking open a large text book.

The other three follow in suit. They all plop down on the floor and begin pulling out their coursework. Craig crosses his legs at his desk and slides one of the books onto his lap. The boy glances up to him with a pinched expression. My hands start sweating watching his eyes narrow. The blond boy turns his attention back down to his book. Not uttering a word.

As their academic chatter begins to fly over my head I take out my videogame and pretend I’m not even there at all. The hours fly by. My vision blurs and hand begins to cramp. I tilt my head back to the group as their voices escalate.

One of the girls shakes her head, “I don’t think that’s the correct navigational path given its trajectory.”

Two other students chime in explaining fundamentals of flight that go way over my head. I glance at Craig sitting in his chair with his knee bouncing. He bites his nails staring forward into the mess of papers below him.

_He’s never bitten his nails before._

I walk around the couch and lean against the counter, trying not to make it too obvious that I’m focused in on Craig. The blond boy flicks his head up to me. Our eyes meet. My heart rate picks up watching his lips curve up into a malicious grin.

_Oh shit._

“So,” the boy says, overpowering the voices of his classmates, “who is Tweek, Craig?”

My eyes widen. My heart begins to pound wildly against my chest noticing Craig’s jaw click.

“Why?” He says with his voice lowered.

I take calm, even breaths walking towards Craig with shaking knees.

“I don’t know,” he starts, glancing at me then back to Craig, “it just looks like your roommate there may have a crush on you. You’re not a fag? Are you?”

Craig shoots up from his chair taking a stumbling step forward. I rush behind him. My grip tightens around his arm before he has a chance to speak. The disapproving voices fall behind us as I throw open the bedroom door.

Without a thought I push him onto the bed and draw down the curtains in our room. In complete darkness, I hear nothing. My hands feel along the bed before I brush against Craig’s arm. His breathing is soft but when I reach for his chest his heart is beating fiercely. I rest my arms around his chest and bury my head into his shoulder. His hand reaches up and strokes my hair. The anxiety that was flooding my body begins to subside. I need to be calm for him.

“This is what I was afraid of.” His voice is soft in the darkness of our room.

“Nothing happened.” I whisper.

“I was about to-”

“You didn’t.”

Muffled voices from the students in the living room seep into our sacred space.

His long sigh reaches my ears and I tighten my hold around his chest.

“You didn’t do anything.” I say again.

“That’s only because you were there.”

I pause and slowly stand from the bed. I walk over to him and brush my thumb across his scarred lip before gently pressing them into mine.

“I’ll always be here.” I whisper.

He wraps his arms around my waist and rests his forehead on my chest.

“I love you.” He murmurs.

I run my hand through his silky hair and rest my cheek on his head.

“I love you too.”

We stay entwined together until his heart begins to beat with mine.

“Ready to go outside?” I ask, lifting my head up from his.

He groans, “No. But let’s go anyways.”

I make a low humming noise and help him off of the bed.

He finds my lips in the darkness, giving me one last kiss before taking my hand in his.

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

I’ve taken less hours at work. It’s not like we need the money anyways. I know something happened while Craig was at the library. He won’t tell me what though. The only time he leaves the apartment is when he has to go to class or go with me to the grocery store. He still likes getting out of the house every once in a while. I must admit I do too. I feel like I can’t leave him alone for too long, even in our own apartment. When I got off work last week, our living room was filled with smoke. He sat there unfazed at his desk as the alarm blared in the room. Turns out he can’t cook anymore either. The physical and emotional toll living with him was more than I expected. But I still woke up every day with a smile on my face, just thankful he was alive at all.

“Fuck!”

I instinctively duck as a pen flies over my head. I concentrate on evening out my breathing before turning to him. His head rests on his hand. His finger taps at a hastening pace on the desk. I pull myself from the couch, grabbing the pen as it lay next to the TV. He whispers expletives under his breath while I silently place his pen back on his desk, keeping my breathing even and body relaxed.

“Anything I can help with?” I ask, standing casually besides him.

The hand supporting his head slams on the desk making all the papers jump up in response. “Yeah! You can shut the fuck up and leave me alone!”

I take a few steps away from him as his hand returns to his head. I sneak into the bathroom, pulling open the medicine cabinet. My hands tremble despite my calm breaths. I pick up his Fluoxetine and give the bottle a slight shake. _Oh fuck._ I turn the bottle over in my hand, my eyes straining trying to read the small print on the label. _Shit! I can’t believe I forgot to call in for a refill!_ My sweat dampens the thin paper around the bottle.

I cross the hall to our pitch black room with my head hung low. I feel around for the bed before pulling out my new phone. I let out a deep sigh of guilt inputting his prescription into the automatic refill list. Craig's hushed words bleed into the room. 

I can do nothing but sit in my shame, cursing myself for how irresponsible I’ve been. I want to go out there; I want to make sure he’s okay. But my body refuses to move. _I’ll go out if I hear anything fall or he starts yelling again. I just can’t do this right now._ I lay back and pinch the bridge of my nose, trying to choke back the tears I feel welling up in my eyes. The way he’s acting right now isn’t his fault. It’s mine.

A stream of light breaks into the room. I roll my weary head over to Craig’s shadow hovering in the threshold. The door closes but in the dark, I can’t tell if he stayed or left. I turn my head back to the ceiling and count my breaths; trying to match the rhythm of my heartbeat.

“I’m sorry.”

I choke on a tear when his voice penetrates the darkness.

“Don’t be.” I whisper as my voice breaks.

A hand grazes against my knee then the mattress below me moves.

“I forgot to reorder your medications.” I say quietly, guilt still eating away at me.

“You shouldn’t have to do that for me.” His hand moves onto my thigh.

I sit up and let out a shaky sigh, “I don’t mind at all. I just need to pay more attention.”

There is a brief pause before his voice echoes in the room. “I wish I could go back to how I used to be.” His voice is soft and pained, “I don’t like who I am now… I hate being the one that makes you cry.”

My fingertips reach out for his and I weave them together. My head naturally falls upon his shoulder. “I loved you before. And I love you now. There’s nothing that can make me stop loving you.”

I feel his lips press against me and a deep sigh tousle my hair. “You deserve better.” He breathes.

“I’m right where I want to be.”

His hand skims up my arm and brushes against my cheek, I turn to him and like magnets, my lips connect with his. His lips move with me as I inch closer to him in the darkness. His hand grazes against my neck, making my whole body shiver with desire. Flooded with the heat of my unresolved tension my hand grasps onto his hair as my body arches into his. His mouth opens with a series of small moan. My hand moves under his shirt, fingers tracing over every inch of his sinuous body. My mouth moves faster as my tongue darts inside, possesses his mouth, tasting every drip of passion building inside him. I climb up on the bed grabbing his shirt, forcing him closer to me. He follows closely behind before I feel his sweet, warm breath hovering over my lips. I close my eyes. A small gasp escapes me as our lips crash into each other.

I move rhythmically under him as a warm wave of ecstasy courses through me. A firm pressure pins my pulsating hips. The instinct to move overwhelms me. I pull my head back, breathing out long heavy pants into him, fighting the hold he has over my hips. Keeping his hand pressed to me he lowers the zipper on my pants, easing some of the aching need driving me.

“Take off my pants. Please.” I beg, unable to stop trying to rock my hips.

Warmth radiates next to my cheek. A soft breath skims against my ear. “No.” He whispers.

He leans back into me. Kissing the side of my mouth as his hand grazes down my body. I begin to pant faster. His fingers tease over the elastic band of my underwear.

“Please touch me.” I plead. I have lost all sense of modesty. His torture is driving me slowly mad.

I hear a zip in the darkness. The warm waves of his body hover over mine. “Be patient.” He breathes out.

I don’t recognize this side of him. We’ve never had sex like this. But the anticipation is bringing me to a breaking point. I want him. I want him now.

He keeps my hip pinned down as he slowly begins to brush his length against my thigh. I can feel how hard he is. I can feel his jagged breathing next to my ear. I need him to touch me.

My breathy pants turn into small whines. I use all my strength to fight against his hand pressing on my hips. He chuckles darkly, planting kisses on my jawline, continuing to grind against my leg. He pulls his pants further down. His freed member rubs against my thigh. I let out a loud groan squirming wildly against his hand. He presses his cheek to mine and breathes out small satisfied moans into my ear. My mouth opens to a loud, whiny groan escaping from my lips into him.

“Want me to let go?” He whispers with a smile in his voice.

“Yes! Please! Oh God, please!”

He hesitates before finally releasing my hips from his firm grasp. I shoot up and tear off my clothes with a fervor I didn’t know I had. By the time I’m back on the bed he is already on top of me. I brush my leg against his and grab onto his broad shoulders. Free from his dark hold I pull his body into mine and kiss him with an urgency that has by heart beating out of my chest. His hand finally reaches down and touches me softly. Sparks fly in my eyes. I let out a moan so vulgar the entire complex could hear me. His lips find mine again as I continue to moan with each stroke of his hand. His hand slides down under me. He presses his forehead to mine.

“Do you want this?”

“Yes! Fuck! Yes!”

His fingers enter me slowly, at a pace so slow I breathe out in achy gasps.

“Faster!” I breathe out wildly.

He stops entirely before starting again at a slower pace than before.

I groan loudly into his ear and exhale a series of needy whines. He needs to be faster. There needs to be more pressure. I need more. I need everything.

“Just fuck me already!” The words spill out of my mouth.

He laughs into the darkness. His fingers leave me before I hear him slowly walking towards our nightstand. I continue to squirm, unable to stop touching myself. I have never been so overwhelmed by need. Nothing is enough. I need him. I need all of him.

The mattress moves and his enveloping warmth caresses every inch of my body.

“Rules.” He says sternly.

“Say ‘stop’ if I’m anxious, in pain, or uncomfortable.” I pant, “Now please just fuck me.”

His firm hands grab my knees and push them down on the bed.

“You’re so flexible.” He purrs.

“Please fuck me.” I groan loudly.

Without warning, he sweeps my legs up into his arms and slams into me. I grip onto the sheet. A moan of complete ecstasy floods the room. He holds nothing back. His hips continue to drive further into me. I can’t stop the lustful noises pouring out of me as the sounds of his body slamming into mine becomes mere background noise. He bends his head down and gives me a light kiss before his hand reaches up and covers my mouth. Terrifying memories flash behind my eyes. But just as fast as his hand moved to me, he drew it away.

“I’m so sorry.” He breathes out, slowing down his pace.

In this new, lustful dance of ours his sudden concern catches me off guard.

“It’s okay.” I whisper.

He continues to move slowly inside. His lips brush against my ear.

“Do you want me to stop?” He says quietly, a tinge of regret ringing in his voice.

“No. Keep going.” I turn my head and kiss his cheek.

His hips start to rock slowly. His lips move to find mine. His assertiveness I felt in the beginning turns back into the soft, romantic intimacy we’ve shared for almost 2 years. His lips never leave mine. His breathing picks up and his quiet groans begin to grow. My body naturally follows his as his last breath turns into a long moan into me. 

He eases out of me and rolls over to his side of the bed, tossing his condom in the nearby trash can. I crawl over to him and rest my head on the crook of his shoulder, letting out a high pitched hum before kissing the sharp curve of his jaw.

“I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking.” He murmurs.

“You were,” I say kissing his shoulder, “you realized what you were doing seconds after I did.”

He reaches his arm around and rests it on my waist, letting out a long sigh.

I run my finger up and down his chest, “I still say that was some fantastic sex, babe. Top 5 definitely.” I try to find his expression in the darkness of the room but turn my head down when I see nothing.

“I’m glad you liked it, sweetheart.” He says, kissing the top of my head.

“Are you feeling better?”

“I guess. I think I’ll call it a night though. I was getting too worked up out there.” He pauses briefly, “When will my meds be ready?” He asks quietly.

I twist my lips, “Hopefully tomorrow. Friday at the latest… I’m sorry again for not ordering them sooner.”

He tightens his arm around me, “Don’t be sorry. I don’t know where I’d be without you.”

I curl up closer to him. Breathing in his sweet scent. My favorite scent.

“I love you.” I whisper.

He kisses my forehead, “I love you too, sweetheart.”


	4. Spark

I glance at my watch: 5 more minutes. The car hums impatiently while I wait for Craig’s session to finish. I pull out my phone only to mindlessly skim through the array of brainless posts from my former classmates. They show extravagant vacations and cheesy inspirational messages posted by people who haven’t felt the amount of despair and heartache that I have. They wouldn’t be posting such things if they had. My thumb freezes on a picture of Clyde and Token. They both have cheery grins plastered on their faces. The caption “Denver Life” sticks out from the tag. _They had to have passed through here to get to Denver._ I lean my head back with a heavy heart and breathe out a sigh. Craig really doesn’t have friends anymore. Neither one of us expected him to make any lasting relationships here, but I always thought Token and Clyde would be a staple. The people we could always rely on, even when times were tough. I guess that means things are worse than just ‘tough’.

The passenger side door creaks open and I roll my head to the door. Craig slides inside, his face grey and eyes glossed over. He always looks this way after therapy.

“How’d it go?”

He slowly draws his eyes to me and shrugs his shoulders, “She wants me to join a support group.”

A grin spreads across my face and a new found optimism raises my spirits, “I think that’s a great idea!”

He raises his eyebrow and shifts awkwardly in his seat.

“I’d be great if you met people like you! People who won’t judge you and, and know what you’re going through!”

“Why are you so excited about this? It sounds depressing - sitting around and talking about how shitty life is. I already do that.” He grumbles.

“You might like it,” I say putting the car in gear, “just give it try.”

“I don’t want to.” He sighs.

“Please, Craig. Just one time. Just give it a shot.”

He rests his head back on the car seat and groans. “Fine. For you. And just one time.”

My grin widens and I reach my hand out to his knee. “When do they meet?!”

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

There are a lot more cars here than I thought there would be. Cars of all different kinds fill the expansive parking lot as I struggle to find a spot. I park next to a flashy Jaguar and wonder what kind of job this person must have. Craig isn’t limited by his head injury, there will be more obstacles, sure, but I know there isn’t a thing he can’t do. He’s smart, witty, and bright. Everything will fall into place eventually, I know it will. The door to the church opens and a flood of people of all ages come pouring out. I start the car and crank the heater up as high as it goes. My eyes stay focused on the door, waiting for Craig to walk out. The steady stream of people dissipates and the parking lot soon falls silent. _Please tell me he didn’t just ditch._

I roll my eyes pulling the keys out of the ignition. I slam the door behind me and stomp my way to the entrance. The small church is dimly lit. My heavy footsteps echo through the narrow halls. I approach the last door and yank it open as the pungent aroma of burnt coffee floods out into the hall. In the center of the room, Craig stands relaxed with his hands in his pockets, talking to another man about the same age.

“Hey, hon.” I say softly.

Craig turns his head to me with a wide grin on his face. I lurch back at his glowing expression. He rarely looks like that. Even on his best days. 

I walk to him and wrap my fingers in his as he continues gleaming at the boy across from him.

“Tweek, this is Thomas.” He gestures to the boy in front of him.

I tear my eyes away from Craig and jump back at the boy in front of him. He looks… like me. His dirty blond hair is straw-like and disheveled. He turns to me with bags under his eyes and a slight shake to his body. He’s much taller than me, his features not nearly as effeminate as mine, but the brown in his eyes makes my stomach queasy.

“Nice to meet – SHIT- FUU- you.” He says with a slight twitch.

“Uh, hi.” I say, skirting to Craig’s side.

“He has Tourette’s Syndrome.” Craig says, beaming down at me.

“Um, okay.” I glance up at the twitching boy again then turn back to Craig, “Ready to go home, babe?”

“Yeah, of course.”

He turns to Thomas, “You’ve got my number, right?”

Thomas pulls out his phone and gives it a light wave, “Got it. See you-SHIT- next time, Craig.”

Craig walks back to the car with me with a slight spring in his step. I glance back at the church; Thomas stands still in the hallway. Just watching us.

I slide in the car and turn the ignition back on, “So, looks like you had a good time?” I ask, peering at him through the corner of my eye.

“Yeah it was great!” I hear the smile in his voice as we make our way back home. “Thanks for making me go.”

My mouth twitches into a half smile, “No problem babe. Glad you liked it.”

His phone dings next to me and I grip the wheel tighter. He pulls it out of his pocket with a small chuckle.

“Thomas.” He says with a light tone in his voice.

I try to keep my eyes from rolling by staying fixated on the road. I wanted this. I wanted him to make friends. But why am I so irritated by this guy I don’t even know?

“What did Thomas say?” I ask through my teeth.

“He just wanted to see if he had the right number.” Craig says, a soft tapping coming from his phone.

“Mhmm. What were you guys talking about?” I hesitate realizing how intrusive I must be sounding, “I hope I didn’t interrupt anything.” I quickly add.

“No, you’re fine babe. We were just talking about the meeting.” He continues staring at his phone, his face illuminated by the iridescent glow.

“That’s good.” I mutter.

“I’m going to go over to his house after class tomorrow.” He says, “I’ll be back by the time you get off work.”

I pull into our parking spot with an inadvertent lurch. “Sounds good.” I say flatly, walking into our apartment.

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

My feet drag on the ground making my way back from work. As much as I am looking forward to seeing Craig when I get home - I feel a knot in my stomach knowing where he’s been. Why am I so weird about this guy? Craig has had guy friends in the past. He’s around guys all the time at school. Why should I be feeling this way? Maybe it’s because he looks so much like me? I don’t know, but something about that guy just puts me on edge.

I lean my weight into the door as I push it open and stumble inside. I glance to the side as two heads flip to me from the couch. My grip tightens. I hold myself back to avoid slamming the door behind me. 

“Hey, hon!”

Craig leaps up from the couch and wraps his arms around me before pulling me in for a passionate kiss. I peel open my eyes and glare at Thomas from the corner of my eye. Craig pulls away from me and gazes at Thomas. 

“I thought you were going over to his house.” I mumble.

“I did,” he says walking back to the couch, “but I told you I’d be back before you got home. So we compromised.”

I don’t think he understands what a “compromise” really is. Where was my say in this? Why is he here?

“Oh.” I grunt. “Did you want me to make dinner or did you already eat at Thomas’s?” I ask, trying not to spit out his name.

“I haven’t eaten yet,” Craig says turning to Thomas, “did you want to stay for dinner?”

You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.

“Yeah I’ll-PISS- stay.”

“What are we having, babe?”

“Spaghetti.” I say, biting the inside of my cheek.

Craig turns to Thomas, “Sounds-FUCK- good.”

I drop my bag down by the counter and start throwing open the cupboards, unintentionally making the loudest pasta dish known to man. Craig continues his conversation with Thomas while I cringe at every expletive that stammers out of Thomas’s mouth. I try to numb out their conversation by focusing on the pot of water waiting to boil. I glance to them on the couch as their smiles widen into each other.

I should be thankful for Thomas. I should be glad Craig’s found someone to confide in besides me. He finally looks… happy.

A heavy weight sinks into my stomach. Why can’t I make him that happy?

The hiss of water splashing on the burner pulls me from my thoughts as my hands frantically search for the bag of pasta. I dump the entire bag into the pot in hopes it will be enough for the three of us. Funny. I had only just gotten so used to making dinner for two.


	5. White Lie

_“Fear is the path to the dark side. Fear leads to anger; anger leads to hate; hate leads to suffering-”_

“I sense much fear in you.” I mumble.

My head rests in Craig’s lap as we watch his favorite movie for the hundredth time. I’d never admit it, but I’ve always found these movies to be painfully boring. I glance up to his face lit up by the blue glow of his phone; a small smile gracing his lips.

“You’re not even watching the movie.”

He turns his head down to me as his phone clicks off.

“Yeah, I am.” He shifts his weight and flicks his eyes back up to the screen.

I pull my hand up his leg and trace winding circles on his knee. The familiar images play on the screen but my mind wanders elsewhere.

A slight vibration on the couch radiates through my nerves and my skin crawls. Craig snatches the phone up and begins tapping vigorously on the screen. I pull myself up from his lap and glare at him through squinted eyes.

“You’ve been on your phone a lot.” I say curtly.

“Yeah. What’s wrong with that?” He responds, not lifting his head.

“Nothing, I guess.” I twist my lips, “It’s just… annoying.”

He clicks his phone off and stares down at me, “What’s annoying about it?” He says, his intense eyes digging into me.

“No. I mean. It’s just like…” I stammer gazing back into his icy stare, “You’ve been hanging around Thomas a lot.”

“Why is that a bad thing? I thought that was what you wanted.” He says sharply.

I tear my eyes away from him and fidget with the hem of my shirt. “It’s just… a lot… is all I’m saying.” I whisper.

His voice rises, “Why do I get the feeling you don’t like Thomas?”

I snap my head up to him. My heart beats faster in my chest.

“Is it because he has Tourette’s?!”

“Of course not!”

“Then what is it?!” He snaps.

“I don’t like the way he looks at you!” I blurt out.

He sits back on the couch and a small smile creeps up his scarred lip.

“You’re jealous.” He says quietly.

My body freezes. Is that it? Am I really just jealous?

“Well- just- I…”

“You’re jealous, babe.” He smiles.

The sudden change in tone leaves my head reeling.

“You don’t have anything to worry about.” He wraps his arm around my hip and pulls me closer, “He’s just a friend, sweetheart.”

My head falls on his shoulder in a huff. It can’t be jealousy. It’s not just that. There is something else. I’ve felt the tinge of jealousy before. There’s something about Thomas that makes me feel… unsafe.

“Maybe you’re right.” I mumble.

He kisses me softly on the top of my head and runs his hand down my arm. I try to focus back on the movie playing in front of me. Craig wouldn’t do anything. He wouldn’t do something like that to me. I relax back into the warmth of his body and close my eyes. A sudden vibration tears them open again. _I fucking hate that guy._

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

I can never seem to do anything right. I managed to spill 3 drinks and crash into 2 people, all the while being yelled at by my boss. I know I’m bad at my job. My supposedly easy job. But the late nights staying up with Craig while he studies has begun to take its toll on me. Everything he drops, every frustrated outburst he has, all require my full attention. Most days I stay up to 2AM, only to get up 4 hours later to head to work. My tremors have gotten worse. My concentration has diminished. I drag my feet during the 6 painful hours I’m stuck there 4 times a week. I’m constantly exhausted and on the verge of tears every day. Even though I wouldn’t trade it for anything, I’m allowed to be frustrated sometimes too.

I can barely keep my eyes open walking back from work. The weight of the world tucked away in one of the tiny pockets of the backpack around my shoulders. Rain or shine, nothing brightens my days. My arms ache as they sift around my backpack in search of my keys. I press my shoulder in the door and try every key on my ring before the very last one clicks and cracks open the door. I walk into a pitch black room. Solemn and forlorn. I press my body back into the door slamming it shut. I sink down onto the floor and cover my eyes, trying desperately to hold myself together. Faint strumming floating through the air pulls my hands down from my face. A serene lullaby wafts to me from the bedroom. I hold my head up from my arms as my brow rises. I sling my bag from around my shoulders and walk in a trance to our bedroom. My hand reaches to the handle. A sudden weight lifts from my shoulders, I know this song. It’s… my song.

I slowly open the door and my face softens. Craig sits on the side of our bed, his body relaxed with a gentle smile on his lips. He looks like he did last year, before everything horrible happened. Before our lives were forever changed. I cross to the bed and the whole day fades away. He gazes up at me under his thick lashes and his vivid blue eyes connect with mine. I sit next to him on the bed, feeling every note from his guitar reverberate in my chest. He starts to softly hum as his tender music brings me back to the warm nights spent in the mansion. The way he used to cook, spending all day watching his band practice, sharing dinner with my parents. They’re all memories a dearly cherish. With just a simple strum of his guitar, all the sights and sounds of our senior year of high school wash over me.

He strums the last note and places his hands over the strings.

“You’re the most talented person I’ve ever met.” I murmur as my lips brush across his neck.

He smiles, almost to himself. “Thanks, babe.”

I crawl behind him and drape my arms around his shoulders, “It’s been a while since I’ve heard you play.”

“I had almost forgotten it was even here.”

He leans his guitar against the bed and turns into me, placing his hands on my waist.

“You looked so serine, you should play more often.”

He gives me a playful grin, “What are you talking about, I’m always serine.”

I let out a soft chuckle and gaze into his hypnotic blue eyes. I turn my head and kiss him softly, feeling weightless next to him, at peace wrapped in his arms. He brings his hand up to my neck and brushes lightly against my jaw. The scent from his naked wrist slowing my heart. He kisses me tenderly, lovingly, like the way he used to. When he held me during my darkest times; the times where tears replaced my words, the times when the only thing I felt was pain. His breath gave me life.

“We need to get you a piano.” He murmurs.

“Mhmm, that would be nice.” I say, returning my lips to his.

Our love of music had always brought us closer together. With all the chaos in our lives, simple moments like this remind me of where it all started. How we fell in love with each other. How we grew closer to one another. Why we’re together now. Why we’ll always be together.

He lies down on his back, the soft sunshine shimmering though the dark curtains fill the room with a soft glow. I curl up into him, knowing this moment can never be taken away. His long arms circle me, making their way around my back. I gently close my eyes so I could feel him with my heart. My hand slides up the soft surface of his cotton shirt, coming to rest on his shoulder. His grip around my waist tightens and he breathes softly into my hair.

“I know how much I’ve been putting you through. I can see it in your eyes every day.” He says quietly, “I don’t know how you do it. I don’t know how you can stand me.” His hand falls from my waist, “I can’t even stand me.”

I sit up and press my finger to his lips. I stare deeply into his eyes and cup his face in my hand. 

“I do it because I love you.”

He brushes the back of his hand against my cheek, “I love you too, with all my heart.”

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

“Tucker.” Craig says quietly.

The woman behind the counter begins vigorously typing on the computer, glancing at Craig's insurance card then back to the screen.

“It will be about a 15 minute wait.” The woman flashes him a smile before disappearing around the corner.

Picking up Craig’s meds together has been part of our routine now. While it’s not the romantic getaway I’ve been wanting to take, at least it gets us out of the house. I lace my fingers in his and draw my gaze up to his heavenly face. The despondent expression he wears when he picks up his meds is one I’ve become used to. It doesn’t bother me anymore. So long as I can hold his hand and sit next to him, I’m happy. I relax my head on his shoulder and wait for his beautiful name to be called while he gently strokes the back of my hand with his thumb. I’ll take this. I’ll take this any day.

“Hey –SHIT- Craig!”

My head shoots up to the obnoxious voice calling out my boyfriend’s name.

“Hey, Thomas!”

Craig’s face lights up as his hand falls from mine. He springs up from his chair and brushes past me, approaching Thomas with a delighted grin on his face. I roll my eyes and trail him to the blond hair boy with the twitchy face.

“What are you doing here?!” Craig asks, beaming at him.

“I was just –FUU- passing through and I saw you!” He stammers taking a step closer to Craig. Stepping too close to Craig.

I glance down at his bag then back to him, “If you’ve already checked out then why are you still here?” I ask, folding my arms.

Craig snaps his head to me with his brows pulled in, “Tweek!”

“It’s –PISS- okay.” He says flashing me an innocent smile, “I saw you walk in and wanted to say ‘Hi’.”

“I’m glad you came by!”

I bite my lip watching them exchange bubbly remarks. Thomas’s stuttering curse words draw the attention of everyone around us as I shift uncomfortably behind Craig. _I didn’t see him checking out when we got here. I didn’t see him at all until just now._ My eyes drift down to his plain white place bag wrapped around his wrist, something nearly weightless rattling around inside. _I come here at least twice a month. I’ve never seen a bag like that._ I flick my eyes up to him as his face softens leaning further into Craig. Infuriated by his obvious provocation my fingers reach out to Craig’s hand and I wrap them tightly into mine. Thomas’s eyes glance down as a flicker of anger flashes across his face. _I knew it!_ I pull our entwined hands behind my back and relax my head on his shoulder. Thomas’s thin lips form a straight line. I stare into his eyes with a smug smile making its way to my lips.

“Tucker!”

Craig’s head flashes to the pharmacist behind the counter. He walks in her direction while Thomas’s eyes still locked to mine.

“I’m surprised to see you here, Thomas.” I say flatly.

“Well, this is my –SHIT- pharmacy too.”

“Is that what’s in your bag?”

Just as Thomas’s eyes begin to harden, Craig appears beside me and rests his arm around my shoulder.

“Ready to go, hon?” Craig says, staring down at me with his crooked grin.

I lightly grip his hand around my shoulder and stand on my toes, giving him a quick peck on the cheek.

“Let’s go home.” I say, softly.

Craig arms stays wrapped around my shoulder as we begin our short walk out of the store.

“I’ll walk you to your car!” Thomas shouts from behind.

My skin crawls and body tenses hearing the stumbling gait from Thomas’s boots thudding against the linoleum floor. Craig peeks around his shoulder and gives him a small smile as the automatic doors open.

Thomas stuffs his hands in his pockets and struts ahead of us, heading straight to our car. I spot my grey Honda in the distance and breathe out a heavy sigh. The car is sunken down, the tire on the driver’s side completely flat. Rain plummets down on the lopsided car as Craig lets out a loud groan.

I would have noticed if my car’s tire was low on air, even if it was low, it wouldn’t look like this after 15 minutes.

I mumble to myself and pull the phone from my pocket; I’m not in the mood to stand out in the rain and do this myself.

“I’ll call AAA.” I grumble.

“I can change it for you, Craig! I –FUU-know a lot about cars.”

“Thanks, Thomas! I’m glad one of us does.” He laughs.

How can Thomas know a lot about cars if he doesn’t even have one? He can’t even drive. I watch him fumble pulling the diamond jack and the tire iron from the trunk of my car and stare at the hub cap with wide eyes. _He’s never actually done this before!_

“So… how did you learn so much about cars, Thomas?” I ask, hovering around the tire.

“Oh, you know. You just learn these things when you’ve lived in a big city for so long.” He laughs nervously.

“I just ran my crappy old car into the ground and never gave it much thought,” Craig says, breathing out a light chuckle, “I can probably learn a thing or two from you Thomas.”

“Well if you ever wanted to-“

“That’s not where the jack goes Thomas. You’re going to mess up my door.” I say sharply, crossing my arms around my chest.

He freezes then releases the tension on the jack. “All cars are different!” He says with a smile.

His hands shake reaching under the car in search for the metal frame. Craig peeks around his shoulder; enthralled by the pseudo-mechanic attempting to change a simple tire. My eyes drift to the plain white sack that was wrapped around Thomas’s wrist in the store. With Craig focused on the embarrassing attempt of chivalry playing out before him, I slide my way to the bag lying on the damp asphalt. I sink down with my hand hovering next to the vague object inside. I softly press my hand on it. The distinct sound of aluminum crushing against itself escapes the bag. 

My body jolts with fear. An empty soda can. A plain white bag with an empty soda can inside. I draw myself up. A sharp chill sweeps through my body. I gaze down at Thomas, still trying to take off the lug nuts by twisting them clockwise.

“I’ll do it.” I mumble, snatching the tire iron from Thomas’s hand.

“I didn’t know you knew how to change a tire, babe!”

My eyes stay staring forward as my hands move mechanically changing the tire. An empty soda can. In an unmarked bag. Craig and Thomas’s voices warp as blood drums in my ears. _There’s no way he followed us here just to be with Craig._ My mind tries to rationalize the strange string of events leading up to me changing a tire in front of our pharmacy. Thomas’s appearance is too convenient. This flat tire is too convenient. I tug the tire off and my eyes fly down to the deep gash between the treads. 

“Babe.” I say as my voice shakes.

“Yeah?” He turns to me and Thomas inches closer.

“Someone slashed our tire.” I say quietly.

Craig’s brows pull in as he jerks back, “Who would do that?”

“You guys can stay at my place if you –PISS- need to, it might not be safe –SHH- for you to return home.”

“No.” I say as I shove the spare tire on the wheelbase, “We’re going home after this.”

“Maybe Thomas is right, hon. We can just-“

“I want to go home, Craig!” I whip my head to him. My heart pounds in my chest and my eyes stare wildly into his.

“Okay, okay. We’ll go home.” He says taking a few steps back.

I lower my head and finish tightening the last lug nut. I slowly stand up and stare at the vandalized tire below me.

“I want to go home.” I whisper into the air.


	6. Fickle Game

There’s something nostalgic about going to the farmer’s market. The fresh produce, crisp morning air, winding stalls filled with smiling faces. And of course, Craig by my side. I hold his hand and I skip around stall to stall, making small talk with the cheery vendors as I pass by. He never says a word, but just having him here with me makes it my favorite place in Ft. Collins.

Craig fishes into his pocket and whips out his phone as his hand falls from mine. I glance towards him, a flurry of sarcastic remarks and insecure comments flash through my mind. But I press my lips together and leaning back into the colorful array of vegetables.

“How much for 4 of these?” I ask the young man behind the counter.

“5 bucks.”

I pull the money out of my pocket and slide it on the counter to man as he wraps up my purchase into my burlap bag.

“Thanks.” I say with a flicker of a smile.

I give the man a small wave before instinctively reaching my hand out to Craig. My hand swats through dead air. My eyes widen. I flip my head around and scan the crowd, my pulse speeding up with every glance. I push my way through the hoard of people passing by and stand on my toes in hopes to see over their heads. I stumble my way to the parking lot, breathing heavily as my heart races. I frantically search for our car only to have my blood suddenly fill with ice. My face twists into a scowl. I stomp my way over to the cheery boys hovering around my car.

“What the hell, Craig!” I say as my voice cracks.

He jolts away and turns back to me with a glare.

“What are you talking about? I just came here to see Thomas.”

“Hey-FUCK-SH-Tweek.”

“Well you should have told me,” my scowl drops into an expression of worry and pain, “I thought something happened to you.” I say softly.

He rolls his eyes and scoffs before returning his hardened stare to me.

“I’m not a child, Tweek. You don’t have to put me on a leash.” He says as his jaw twitches.

I shift my weight and exhale a deep breath staring back at him with my face relaxed.

“I didn’t mean it that way,” I explain calmly, “I just got scared when I turned around and you weren’t there.”

“Do I have to tell you every little thing I do now!” He says, his voice rising.

I take another deep breath. _Please not here. Not now._

“No. I’m sorry.” I say, my voice even but hands shaking.

His face becomes livid with anger, “It’s like I can’t even move on my own without your constant hovering! Why can’t you leave me the fuck alone for once!”

He whips around to the car, kicking the spare tire as he thrusts a hand through his black hair. Sounds of his pacing footsteps match with the ever increasing rhythm of my heart as I stand there frozen.

I reach my hand out to him, “Craig, I-“

Just as my finger brushes against his hand, he gets swept away from me, leaving my hand to wade through the nothingness.

I flick my eyes up to him. My whole body turns ridged and cold. Thomas stands just inches from him. Thomas’s eyes are soft, as if he had seen heaven for the first time. He holds Craig's hand like it was the most natural thing to do. My throat tightens staring up at the one I love, being held by the one I most despise.

“Craig,” He stares into him, “Tweek apologized. He didn’t-FUCK- do anything wrong. You didn’t do anything wrong either. Let’s go home-SHIT-. And try to relax.”

I watch as Craig’s body begins to relax; his face softens as he stares back at Thomas through his brilliant blue eyes. The urge to fall to the floor strikes me. My heart shatters. Thomas holds onto his hand as they continue to share their intimate space.

“Craig, let’s go.” I say, my voice unable to rise above a whisper.

Craig’s eyes drift down as he rounds the car and slides inside. My eyes shoot to Thomas, his face glowing and eyes filled with wonder. My fist clenches and face hardens. The urge to punch his smug face ripples through me. Instead, I turn to the car, and get inside. My breathing is still heavy backing up from our parking spot. Thomas steps forward and stares at Craig through the window as we drive away.

I try to find the words to say making our way back to the apartment. I want to tell him how hurt I was, how angry I am. Knowing that Thomas can calm him down with just his words broke me. Thomas’s eyes had scorched into him with burning infatuation. Craig like is the statue of Adonis. My statue. Admired from afar but never to be touched. I was his gatekeeper, his guardian. The one who kept him safe. Tomas’s hands reached out to him like the devils talons clawing at an angel. They were like they were teenagers in love for the first time. Eyes wide and bodies mirrored. The static charge that builds before the first kiss. Time slowed down. Breaths audible, warm. Scents swirling into one.

I walk into our apartment with my heart weighing down my steps, my lips unable to form the words stuck in my throat. I wander to our pitch black room and fall onto the bed. I have no awareness of where Craig is, or what he looks like, all I am able to do, is bring my hands up to my eyes, and begin to cry.

“I’m sorry.” He whispers.

The door shuts and a warm presence joins me by my side. There’s no point in looking towards him. Even in our dark room, I wouldn’t be able to look at him at all.

“Are you crying?”

I try to silence the tears streaming down my face. There should be no reason to cry. Thomas helped him in a way I couldn’t. But seeing him hold Craig in a way only I have is the sole image spinning in my mind.

“I’m sorry, Tweek. I know I shouldn’t have reacted that way.” He says reaching out to me.

I flinch back from his touch and breathe out a series of gasping sobs.

“That’s not it,” I whisper as my voice cracks, “it’s the way he touched you.”

His hand immediately tightens around my knee before relaxing again.

“Yeah,” he says softly, “I don’t know what that was... But it helped.”

“Why can’t I help you like that?” I whisper.

“I-I don’t know.” He pauses, “Maybe it’s because you were the one I was upset with.”

“I didn’t mean to upset you, I was just worried.”

“I know, sweetheart.” He moves his hand up my leg , easing as my sobs. 

I swallow the rest of the tears I have left and concentrate on his touch, warm, and loving. Craig didn’t do anything wrong. I know that. But the twisted feeling of knowing I could lose him was all that I could think of.

“Are you mad at me?” He asks quietly.

“Of course not,” I say, my breathing jagged and strained, “I’m mad at Thomas.”

He draws his hand away from me and a breathy sigh reaches my ears.

“He helped, Tweek.”

I want to argue. I want to tell him how uncomfortable that whole exchange made me feel. But bringing up the same conversation again and again wasn’t worth the trouble. It would only drive us further apart. And he already felt so far away from me.

I take in a shaking breath as my chest hitches; tears begin falling freely down my flush cheeks. “Please don’t leave me.” I whisper.

He wraps both his arms around me and holds me to his chest. The calming scent of pine surrounds me, “Deep breaths, sweetheart. I’ll never leave you. I promise”

He holds me tighter and I bury my head in this shoulder, trying to take comfort in his words. Those words I’ve heard so many times. Where they were once a reminder of our love, have now become a promise I prayed he would keep.

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

“The door’s open!” I yell from the couch, unable to tear my eyes away from the climatic ending of my favorite game. 

“Thanks, -SHIT- Tweek.”

My game slides out of my hands and thumps onto the floor.

“What are you doing here?” I hiss, my eyes burning into his face.

“Isn’t Craig –FUCK- off at 4?” He casually struts into our apartment and falls back into the recliner.

“He is.” I say through my teeth, “But it’s only 3:30PM now.”

“That’s fine,” He says pulling out his phone, “I can wait.”

My stare intensifies. My nails bite into the palm of my hand.

He continues to tap on his phone despite my body seething a few feet away from him. My breathing picks up and the thought of shooting up and kicking him out of my apartment flashes across my mind. But I unclench my fists and try to relax my body. I don’t want to start another argument with Craig.

“How have you been, Thomas?” I say, trying to control the shakiness of my voice.

“I’ve been –PISS- fine. I miss Craig though. How-SH-FUCK- have you been?”

My fingers turn ice cold and I shove them in my lap. Where the does he get off telling me he ‘misses Craig’? They text all the damn time. He shows up at my house randomly. Don’t fucking tell me you miss my boyfriend.

“Oh I’m doing well.” I say, my face tightening into a forced grin. “I miss Craig too. Luckily I get to fall asleep in his arms every night.”

His eyes dart to me and his body stops shaking. He grips his phone tighter then slams it down on the coffee table. His sharp eyes tear into mine. My face slips into a taunting smirk.

“I need to use the -FUCK- bathroom.” He grumbles.

He gets up without another word and spazzes his way down the hall. The door slams shut. My hands instinctively clamor for his phone. I slide open the screen and try to soak in all the tiny details I can. My thumb automatically flies to the messenger app, but my eyes linger on the images button instead. I tap on the little camera icon. A sharp gasp escapes my mouth. They’re all… Craig. 

My thumb flies down the hundreds of images of Craig just sitting or walking around, his eyes never once connecting with the camera. Blurry images and images with black obstructions burn into my eyes. My thumb stops suddenly on a well-lit photo. A photo of Craig and me in our apartment. The still image of Star Wars playing in the background. My hands begins to tremble. The phone starts slipping out of my hand. The sound of the faucet running shakes me out of my frozen fear and I click out of the gallery, shoving the phone back onto the coffee table. I sit back on the sofa. My eyes twitch back and forth, my pulse drumming in my ears.

Thomas rounds the corner with the same sneer twisted on his face but I still can’t shake the horror of what I just saw.

“I’ll be in my room.” I mumble as I slowly rise from the couch.

I stare forward with unblinking eyes pulling open the door to our dark room. I don’t care what he goes through while he’s out there. I don’t care about the weird things he might be doing to our belongings. I can only focus on the hundreds of photos of my boyfriend locked in his phone. Air finally makes it back to my lungs and I breathe out long winded gasps in the air. Thomas is obsessed with him. Thomas has been stalking him all this time. The fear and uneasiness I felt when I met him was grounded in reality. I’m not jealous. I’m terrified.

Mumbled voices break through the thin door and I push myself further up on the bed. I cross my legs and rest my elbows on my knees, burying my head in my hands, trying to even out my breaths. I don’t want Craig to come in here. I don’t want to have to tell him. Not while Thomas is here at least.

“Hey, babe?” a shard of light pierces through the room.

My tongue is frozen. I can’t think of anything to say that wouldn’t start up the same argument we’ve been rehashing all month. But I have to tell him. I have to say something. There’s something dangerous about Thomas.

“I’m here.” I say quietly.

He flicks the light on and I throw my hand up to my forehead while my eyes adjust to the blinding light.

“What’s going on? Thomas is outside.”

He sits next to me and runs his hand down my back.

“I know he is.” I whisper.

“Then come outside with me.” He says, grazing his lips across my neck.

I hesitate, “I need to tell you something about him.”

He sighs into my neck then rolls his eyes, “This again? Really, Tweek?”

“No, babe, please-“

“I’m tired of having this conversation with you, Tweek! It’s getting old!” He says pulling away from me.

“Craig he’s stalking you!”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Tweek.” He says sternly.

“No, really, Craig! His phone is filled with pictures of you!” I say, a hint of hysterics breaking through my voice. 

“You were going through his phone?”

“I just-had a bad feeling about him. And I was right!”

He scoffs then stares into the corner of the room.

“Well… if you say so.” He starts, “I’ll go see for myself.”

He stands up from the bed and walks towards the door while I scramble after him.

“Thomas,” He says, “can I see your phone?”

Thomas glances up at him from the couch. A small smirk creeps up his face.

“Of –FUCK- course, Craig.”

He laxly offers out his phone to him as his eyes shoot to me.

Craig stares stone-faced as his thumb traces along the screen. I stand on my toes trying to peer over his shoulder as he presses on the camera icon.

Craig breaths out an annoyed sigh and shoves the screen in my face.

“There are no pictures here, Tweek.” He says in a voice devoid of emotion.

“I-SHIT- don’t take pict-FUCK-tures.” He says, continuing to stare into my eyes.

“They were there I saw them!” I shout, my eyes suddenly wild and frantic.

“I’m done with this, Tweek.” Craig turns to Thomas, “Can we go to your place?”

“Yeah! -SHIT-” Thomas says, shooting up from the couch.

“Craig, please don’t leave!” I plead, my voice shaking.

He says nothing. He glances at me with a vacant stare. He turns to Thomas, and walks out the door.

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

A brash rapping on the door jolts me out of my seat. The pounding continues as my trembling hand turns the knob. I peer through the crack in the door to Thomas’s smug face staring back at me.

“What the hell do you want?” I snarl.

“I’m just-PISS- here to get Craig’s stuff.”

He shoves open the door open and pushes me aside as he beelines to Craig’s desk. My eyes narrow and fists clench seeing him so comfortable digging around in our home.

“He’ll come back to me, he always will.” I say with confidence.

“We’ll ju-SHIT-st see about that.” He turns to me, a sardonic smile warping his lips. “We’re having –FUCK- an awfully good time at –SHIT- my place. He never gets frustrated when –SHHH- he’s with me.”

I trail him as he saunters into our room.

“He’s just so –ASS- sweet to me.” He stammers, stuffing Craig’s clothing into his bag. “Especially when we’re –FUU- sleeping next to each other. He’s just so cute when he’s sleeping.” He turns to me, staring into my eyes, just inches from my face. ”Want to –SHHH- see a picture?”

“He’s mine.” I growl.

His cackle booms through the apartment as he crosses over into the bathroom. He slides Craig’s toiletries into the bag and throws open the medicine cabinet, snatching up all of the medications inside.

“Some of those are mine, asshole.”

“I’m –SHIT- sure you’ll live.”

He bumps my shoulder gliding out of the bathroom.

“Hey! Give me my meds!” I shout.

His head flips back to me with a twisted grin. His hand hovers over the door knob.

“I’m sure Craig will-SHIT- return them to you. I just don’t know if it –FUU- will be before or after I’m done fucking him.”

“DON’T TOUCH MY CRAIG!” I yell as the door slams shut.

“Fucker.” I say under my breath.

I fall back onto the couch, still shaking with rage at Thomas’s cutting words. Craig will never leave me. He promised.

With a fierce scowl still lingering on my face I take out my phone. And reorder my meds.


	7. No Answers

The nights are lonely. The days drift by like a somber dirge. I can’t remember how long it’s been since he left. Days blur into one, nights stretch into eternity. My life was swept away the moment he walked out the door. Nothing makes sense, not the stirring of the radio, the hum of the TV, the gurgling of the coffee pot. Food has lost its taste. My life has no purpose anymore. I spend my days staring at a smudge on the wall. I think I ran out of food. It doesn’t matter. I can only think of his safety, of our future. The constant pounding in my head only beats worry into my brain. I don’t have any energy left. I just sit here. And worry. 

The lock on the door shakes. My head flips to the noise with a sudden knotting in my stomach.

A cold breeze sweeps in through the door and Craig appears from out of the night.

“Craig?” I whisper, unsure if I’m actually seeing him or if I’m lost in a dream.

“Hey.” He says, his voice faltering.

He drops his bag by the door and walks over to me. He falls back onto the couch and stares at the wall. I want to feel his body pressed against mine. I want to be wrapped in his arms. I want him to hold me and tell me everything is okay.

“I’ve missed you.” I say quietly, tears forming behind my eyes.

He turns to me and his expression slowly softens. He reaches out to me and grazes the back of his hand across my cheek. I close my eyes as a tear falls down my cheek.

“I’ve missed you too, sweetheart.” He leans over to me and kisses the tear rolling down my face.

The fear and anxiety that’s been eating away at me melts away with just a brush of his lips. I wrap my arms around his waist and press my forehead into his shoulder, breathing deeply, getting lost in his dizzying scent of pine and faint cologne.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper as my chest hitches, “I’ll never say anything about him again.”

He kisses the top of my head and runs his hand down my arm.

“I shouldn’t have left without saying anything.” He murmurs, “I’m sorry if I made you worry.”

“That’s all I’ve been doing.” I say softly, pulling myself closer into him.

He rests his head on top of mine and continues brushing his fingers up and down my arm. I close my eyes and let my body relax into his. This is where I belong. This is the only place I want to be. Held close to him, wrapped in his strong arms.

“You’re all I thought about.” He says quietly, “You were the only thing running through my mind. I couldn’t concentrate on anything else but you. I’m so sorry.”

“Why didn’t you come back sooner?” I murmur, gently pressing my lips to his shoulder.

“I thought you’d be mad at me.”

“I’d rather just talk about it than watch you walk out the door.”

He turns to me and tips my chin up to him, my watery eyes gazing back into his ocean blue stare.

“I promise you, I’ll never do anything like that again.”

My eyes flutter closed and I press my lips to his. I bring my hand up and rest it softly on his cheek, feeling his raised scar brush softly against my palm. His mouth moves with mine, my life suddenly feels whole again. My heart has returned to me. Color has returned to my world. His warmth has melted the ice surrounding my heart. With his lips against mine, I can taste happiness again. I never want him to leave. I want to stay with him. Always.

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

He still spends time with Thomas. He doesn’t tell me about it. But I know that’s where he goes when I’m at work. I don’t pry. I don’t want to risk him leaving again. He spends less time on his phone and more time with me. I’m grateful. Pretending Thomas doesn’t exist anymore works for me. Ignorance is bliss. Right? 

I groan and throw my head back on the bed, letting my phone slip from my hand.

“What’s up, babe?” Craig says, lifting his head up from between my legs.

“I got called into work.” I say, still breathing heavily into the air.

“Want me to stop?” He asks as I feel his warm mouth wrap back around me.

“Fuck no.” I moan as his tongue slides down my shaft.

“I can get you to come in 3 minutes.” He says lowing himself to finish his work.

I grab his hair. “Take your time.” I breathe out.

I throw my work clothes on in a rush, already 15 minutes late for work. He pulls me into a heated kiss before releasing me as I fly out the door. The shift is only 6 hours but that feels like an eternity when I’m away from Craig. The evening crawls by, perhaps it’s because I can’t stop my gaze from wandering to the clock on the wall. As soon as the shop closes I move swiftly finishing the cleaning tasks before slipping out the back door at a record speed.

The air is thick with static charge. A single drop of rain splashes against my cheek. The deep black clouds shroud the bright moon and dancing stars I know are shining above the tumultuous skies. I quicken my pace home as the rain drops slowly turn into a torrential downpour. I rush under the safety of the awning of our apartment and dig around my pockets for the keys. They tumble from my shaky hands onto the damp cement of our porch. I snatch them up and shove them into the lock as a crackle of thunder booms through the town. I throw open the door, eager to escape the ominous torrent. My eyes flash up to Craig. Thomas thrown up against him with his pants unzipped. His hand pressing Craig’s wrist to the wall. Thomas’s fingers running along his scarred face. Craig breathes deeply, his hand grasping onto Thomas’s shirt. A bright flash of lightning casts my silhouette across the room.

“Tweek!”

Craig’s head snaps to me. My world falls apart before my eyes. I take a few unsteady steps back into the treacherous monsoon. Bolting into the night. Blinded by the tears falling from my eyes I keep running. The storm lashes out with all its fury as my feet take me as far as I can go. I stumble into an old playground. The heavy rain soaks through my clothes and mixes with the cascade of tears flooding down my face, the sound of my pained cries unheard through the malicious snaps of thunder. A faint outline of a plastic tunnel flashes into view and I rush to the safety of it musty shroud. I crash onto the floor and release a deafening wail into the unforgiving storm.

“Tweek!”

Craig grips onto the side of the tunnel and braces himself against its plastic shell.

“It’s not what it looks like!” His voice cracks with the storm.

“You’re lying!” I shout back, rage and pain burning my soul.

“Babe, please just listen to me!” He begs as the rain pours down his body.

“I trusted you!”

“Please he was-“

“After all we’ve been through!” I scream, my voice echoing in the tunnel sheltering me.

“Please…” He sobs.

“I loved you!” My eyes burn with tears as my body trembles. “You meant everything to me! I sacrificed everything to be with you!”

He falls to his knees and covers his eyes with his hands as his whole body shakes.

“I loved you!” I shout again. My mind spins and chest aches. “You promised!”

He continues sobbing in front of me, his heart wrenching cries ringing through my head.

“Leave!” I scream at him, the storm continuing to berate onto us. “Go be with the one you love! Go be with Thomas!”

He stays still. Silent. Shaking. Drenched from the rain’s ferocity.

“LEAVE!”

He pulls himself up and stumbles away. I bring my knees up to my chest and wrap my arms around myself sobbing uncontrollably into my arms. I stare out into the storm and scream as loud as I can into the falling rain. My cries continue until the storm begins to pass. I’ve run out of energy to move. My soul too crushed to think. I lean my head against the tunnel and sob until my eyes run dry. I spread my legs out into the watery mattress below me, and drown in my despair until sleep overwhelms me. As my eyes fall shut, my head splashes into the water.


	8. What Could Be as Lonely as Love?

Is this it? Is this where it ends? My heart slowing with every painful beat? Where is my solace? Where is my warmth? Locked inside the arms of another, keeping them warm, granting them life while I drown in my own despair. My hand continues to stretch out to his side of the bed, my fingers reaching for where his hand used to be. Each stroke of his pillow releases dandelions of his divine scent. I can still hear the melancholic strum of his guitar as it sits lonesome in the corner of the room, staring back at me in silence. The tissues splayed across the bed tie me down in a blanket of sorrow. If what we promised was forever - is this the end?

“Are you even listening to me, Tweek?!”

My head slowly turns to my boss standing in the doorway of his office, his hands pressed to his hips.

“Yeah, I am.” I say monotone, my eyes glazed over.

“You need to go back to running the register!”

I gaze at the long line of impatient students wrapped around to the entrance.

“Okay.” I say quietly.

I take their orders at slacken pace. My normal customer service smile lost behind the unbearable pain numbing my body. I glance up at the last person in line. A blaze of fire scorches though my veins.

“What are you doing here?!” I spit.

“I jus-FUCK-t need to talk with you.” He takes off his sunglasses and glances side to side.

“You’re the last person I want to talk to.” I growl.

“Just come with -SHIT- me.” Thomas slides his sunglasses on and walks back outside.

My eyes burn a hole into the back of his head as my nails dig deep into my palms.

“I’m taking a 5!” I shout into my boss’s office, not waiting to hear his response.

I toss my apron on the counter and follow Thomas outside into the rain. His boots splash through the muddy puddles sneaking his way around to the back alley. He cautiously removes his half-assed disguise and stares at me with wild eyes.

“What the fuck do you want, Thomas?” I say, crossing my arms around my chest.

“I just –PISS- want to apologize.” He says, twitching at the last word.

“I’m listening.” I say sternly.

“I shouldn’t have confes-PI-SHIT-sed the way I did to Craig that night.”

“What are you stammering on about?”

“I was just so worked up seeing him open –FUCK- up to me like that. I got carried away.” He says timidly.

My lips part and I try to read his expression. “What happened?”

His eyes flick up to me and his brows pull together, “I just –PISS- slammed him against the wall… told him –FUCK- that I could get you out of the picture so we could –SHHH- be together.”

Adrenaline pumps through my veins. The desire to unleash all my pain onto him narrows my eyes. My hurt, my suffering, my despair. I want him to feel my pain. I want him to feel the ache held inside my heart. I want him to taste fear. The same fear I had of losing him. All these feelings twisting, swirling, churning, making its way to the surface. I’ve lost everything. I have nothing left to lose. My instinct to flee is gone. My passive posture abandoned.

My hands fly to his collared shirt. My eyes flare with rage. I swing him around and shove him into the brick wall. He stares back at me. Lips shaking. Tears forming behind his eyes. My left fist clenches until my knuckles turn white. My eyes constrict. I suck in a deep breath. My brain shuts off.

I want him to suffer.

My hand swings wildly from his shirt. My fist slamming against his jaw. The power of the strike ripples through my scrawny arm. My adrenaline tells me to do more. Tells me to take all my pain out on him.

Reality sinks back into me. I release his shirt. He crumbles to the ground, sputtering blood onto my sneakers.

“Anything else you want to tell me?” I say, my voice slightly faltering.

He inhales a wheezy breath, “Just… tell-FUU- Craig I’m sorry.”

My heart sinks. A sharp jolt of unease pierces my stomach.

“I thought he was with you.” I whisper, panic suddenly overwhelming me and closing my throat.

“N-No.” He sways trying to stand up. “Right before you walked in he told me he’d kill me if I –PI-FUCK- got in the way of your guy’s relationship.” He says wiping the blood off his lip.

6 days. Craig’s been gone for 6 days. His phone is at our house. His meds are at our house. His wallet is at our house. He’s been gone. For 6 days.

“Did he tell you anything about where he might be going? Somewhere he wanted to go?” I say, my voice shaking.

“No. Is he –FUCK- not with you?”

My eyes shoot to him, “Fuck off Thomas or I swear next time will be worse. You better stay away from us.”

I walk back into the shop. My head spinning. My hand throbbing. My knuckles spotted with Thomas’s blood.

“I’m taking the rest of the day off.” I say flatly.

“No way, Tweek. You’re going to finish your shift just like everyone else.”

“Then I quit.” I say walking out the door.

The door slams shut as a pleading shout falls behind me.

I wander down the damp street with my eyes flickering, my legs dragging me across the sidewalk. 6 days. He’s been gone. For 6 days. No phone. No money. No medications. 6 days.

I whip out my phone. Light sprinkles dot the screen. I add Tricia, Token, and Clyde all to the same chat, my fingers shake as I type out the message.

**Have any of you seen or heard from Craig this week?**

I snap the phone shut, guilt choking me as I drift onto the State campus. Cheery students fly around me as I scan the area for any familiar face. Anyone who may be in Craig’s class. All the faces blur into one, then a sharp shout echoes through my head.

“Hey! It’s that fag!” My head shoots up to the blond boy sitting in the misty quad, a cheeky smirk plastered on his face. My eyes light up and I stumble my way to the vile boy who may have the answers I need.

“Has Craig been at school this week?!” I unintentionally yell out, my eyes frantic and searching.

He recoils at my fervent question. “Uh, no. He hasn’t.”

I turn on my heels and pull out my phone.

 **Clyde and I haven’t seen him. Is he okay?** Token responds.

 **No. I haven’t. What’s going on?** Tricia replies.

My mind reels with places he might be. Classmate’s apartment? No, he’d still be going to classes. Abandoned house? Unlikely. Holy shit did he get arrested?! I fall onto a cement block and find the list of inmates for the county. Nothing. A Google search turns up nothing. It’s like he’s fallen off of the face of the Earth. _What have I done?_

I manage to find my way back to our apartment and throw open our bedroom door, desperately hoping he somehow returned. He’s out there. He’s out there somewhere. I need to find him. I grab his messenger bag and dump a flurry of notes and books out onto the floor and fly into the bathroom. I stuff his meds and our first aid kit into the bag. I throw open the fridge and cram in as many water bottles I can fit and stuff energy bars into its deep pockets. I grip onto my keys as they leave painful indents in my fingers. I swiftly lock the door before jumping in the car and flying down the road.

The sprinkle of rain has turned into hard pellets of hale and the streets are nearly empty. 6 days. I scan every dark alley, every playground, anything that remotely resembles a hiding place only to turn up with nothing. I try to turn to the police for help, they rolled their eyes and brushed me off saying they’ll add them to the list. Pigs. Homeless shelter! I pull into the only homeless shelter in the city just to be told he hasn’t even tried to check in there. 6 days. He’s been gone for 6 days.

I pull over into the nearest parking lot and kill the engine. I fold my arms on the steering wheel and bury my head into my arms. 6 days. I try not to think about what has happened to him during this week. I try not to think of what he must be going through right now. I hurt him. I told him to leave. I never even gave him a chance to say anything. I took what I saw at face value. Craig’s wrist being crushed against the wall. His heavy breathing. His fist bunched up in Thomas’s shirt. He wasn’t getting intimate with Thomas. He was being attacked by him. The guilt and the pain swirling around in my mind won’t help me find him. Wallowing in my own self-pity won’t help me find him. I need to keep driving. I will drive anywhere, any time of the day, to any place. He’s out there. He has to be out there somewhere.


	9. Just My Soul Responding

The South Park sign flies past me and it’s nearly 5AM. The streets are empty, the lights in all the houses turned off, like the moonlit city is holding its breath. I park in the drive way of his old house. The ‘for sale’ sign still posted in the overgrown yard. The windows are all thrown down. The door - locked. I collapse on the stoop of the ominous brown house and throw my tear-filled eyes up to the sky. Crying won’t help either. I need to stay strong. I need to stay focused. I pull myself up from the hard concrete and sway out of exhaustion; Craig's messenger bag still slung around my shoulders. He can’t be here. He can’t be in South Park. But I’ve run out of places to look. It’s been 7 days now. 7 days without money, 7 days without medication, 7 days without a phone. 

I stumble around the town, the heavy bag around my shoulder lurching me forward with each dragging step. I somehow find the middle of the city with my blurry eyes. The abandoned playground right where I remember it. My eyes fall shut and legs give out. I pant in uneven breaths onto the woodchips below, struggling with my aching knees to stand up again. My eyes drift to the swing sets, our swing sets. Empty. Forlorn. Forsaken. I grip onto the wire fence and hold back the tears forming behind my eyes. He’s somewhere. I run through every memory I have of him, desperately searching for any clue of where he might be. I push myself off of the fence and hold my head in my hands staggering back to the car. 

I crash onto the driver’s seat, trying to keep my eyes open as the threat of sleep begins to overwhelm me. 

A single snowflake slowly drifts down from the sky. I tear my eyes up and watch it glide gracefully back and forth. The tiny freckle of white descends to the ground and hovers above an icy puddle. The cold dust of ice hesitates on top of the frozen pool. It lingers there, before disappearing completely.

My eyes widen. I shove the keys into the ignition. He’s there.

My car flies out of the small town. The engine groans making its way up the steep mountain, gravel shifting under the tires as my car drifts with every turn. He’s there. I know he’s there. I slam on the breaks next to a bank of snow covered trees. I sling the bag around my shoulder and trudge through the deep layers of snow into the forest. Melted snow seeps into my shoes, dragging my body down, slowing my pace. My shaking hands part the overhanging branches while I stumble over every obstacle. I am out of strength. I am out of breath. But I can’t stop moving, my heart pulls me forward. I know he’s here. My fingers red and burning as they crash onto my knees. My breathing sharp and throat on fire from the crisp, cold air. I lift my head up to the last group of trees before reaching the cliff’s edge. My fingers tug on the damp, coarse prawns and I stumble out of the thicket.

A flash of white blinds my heavy eyes. The lakes reflection blankets the area in pure crystal-white. A dark shadow contrasting the artic-snow blurs into focus. My uneven steps crunch on powder ice. My eyes trace up the darkness. It’s him. 

“Craig?” I whisper.

I drift over to the snow covered log, half expecting my hallucination to drift away the closer I step. But he stays there. Posture slumped. Head bowed. His heavy clothes hanging off sharp collarbones.

“Craig?” I whisper again.

His head tips slowly up to mine, his cheeks sunken in and dark bags hang below lifeless eyes. His void face like antiquities stone - cracked and withered. His wind swept features stare up at me like he’s never seen me before in his life.

I sit down next to him and breathe out a weary sigh of pain and relief. The words whirling in my head get caught in my throat. Repetitive scratching becomes the only sound between us. I gaze up at the one I love wasting away. His vibrant features blown away like pale wisps of smoke.

“I’m sorry.” I say quietly.

He doesn’t look up at me; he doesn’t react to my words. It’s like I’m not even there at all.

“I spoke to Thomas.” I say softly.

He stills his hands but keeps his head down.

“He told me what really happened… I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay, sweetheart.” He whispers.

My lip tips up at my pet name.

“I should have listened to you…” My eyes drift down, my heart aching, “I should have trusted you.”

“I should have trusted you too. You were right about him.” His soft words like cries in a churchyard, “He was like a different person that night. For the first time since the accident, I was actually… afraid.”

My face warps and twists with pain. I glance down at his hands as abrasive scratching fills the space around us again.

“Oh my God, Craig!” 

His hand is bloody, scabbed, raw nail markings tear at the flesh of his ivory skin. A deep opening of exposed flesh peels away on the side of his hand. The bed of his nails caked with dry blood and dirt.

“Craig, stop!” I shout.

I fall onto my knees and sift through the bag for the small first aid kit. I expected some scratches and bruises but not this. Not this. I open the med kit as he continues clawing into his hand. My trembling hand lightly grips his fingertips as I cleanse the wound. I cradle his inflicted hand in mine and gaze up at his vacant expression. 

“It itches.” He murmurs through cracked lips.

“I know, babe.” I whisper, tears escaping from the corner of my eye.

He draws his bandaged hand up to me and brushes the tears from my cheek with his feather-lite fingertips. My knees refuse to move as they sink deeper into the snow. I want to press my body into his, hold him until we’re whole again. But if I touched him, I’d be afraid he’d fall away. So fragile. Everything paper thin. I glance up into his tired eyes.

“How did you get here?”

“I took the bus as far as 5 dollars would take me. Then I walked the rest of the way.”

“How long did you spend walking?” I ask quietly.

“3 days.”

Agony rips through me at the thought of him walking alone for hundreds of miles while I was lying in our bed cursing his name.

I reach down into the bag and pass him a water bottle, not giving him a chance to oppose.

He takes the bottle to his lips and sips until the bottle is empty.

“Have you eaten?”

“I did a few days ago. But I’m not hungry now.” He says softly.

My head throbs and my throat tightens. My parted lips breathe out shaking clouds. I did this. Snow iced over his clothes and shoes. I don’t want to know how long he’s been here. Sitting. Waiting. Waiting for what? Me? Or death?

“When did you last sleep?” I ask, my voice shaky and strained.

He pauses and stares off into empty space, “2 or 3 days, I think.”

More tears begin to roll down my cheek. My shoulders can no longer support my head as it falls onto his knee. My fingers grip onto his pant leg. Denim weaves between my fingers. 

I breathe out deeply. Silent tears stream down my face.

“Do you still love me?” He whispers.

I turn to him with misty eyes and parted lips. I press my hands against his warm cheeks and hold his gaze for an immeasurable moment. My thumb grazes against the soft scar on his lip and I lean into him. My lips brush against his and my body draws close enough to feel the serine warmth radiating from his chest.

“I’ll always love you.”

I press into him and his whole body relaxes onto to mine. I match his rhythm as our tongues search for each other’s warmth. His hand grazes against my waist as my breath hitches into his mouth. I run my hand down his arm and feel his body begin to shake. I pull away and stare deeply into his crystalline blue eyes that have sparked back to life. The reflection of the lake bathes his face with sunlight. The warm incandescent light gleaming on every perfect feature. I trace my thumb across the back of hand. His soft smile taking me back to this place two years ago. This place where he fell in love with me. 

I press my forehead to his, “You’re my heart.”

**~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~**

EPILOGUE

Craig slept all the way back to Ft. Collins. I could hardly keep myself from staring at him as I drove. Having him back with me after all this time felt like the sun and the moon were in harmony again. Sometimes I would catch myself tracing my fingertips across his hand. Just hoping my touch could heal him in some way. He ate and took his medications when we got home. It took some soft encouragement. He could barely keep his eyes open. But with every brush of my hand across his cheek he came back to life again. We crawled into bed together. I wrapped my arm around his frail waist and held him close until he drifted to sleep in my arms. I still couldn’t take my eyes off of him. The way his chest moved. The sound of his soft breaths. The warmth of his bare skin against mine. I gently pressed my lips to the nape of his neck. Resting there until a secret tear fell upon his pillow. My eyes were slowly closing, but I didn’t want to let go. Terrified he’d be gone again when morning came. 

A delicate touch drew me out of my hazy dream. Tendrils of light caressed the walls around us, illuminating the celestial blue of his eyes. His bandaged hand tenderly brushed a lock of hair from my face. I stared back at him breathlessly. He closed his eyes and leaned into me. My lips parted into his. And the whole universe stood still.

It took time before Craig resembled himself again. I never wanted to let him go. He healed all the heartache I had, all the pain I felt melted away by the warm touch that was his love.

After hearing about what happened, Token and Clyde entered our lives again. There is no greater joy than seeing Craig’s smile. Making him smile was the most extraordinary gift God had ever given me.

I treated each day like a blessing, every kiss like a miracle. Every murmur of love, every whisper of a promise, was a taste of heaven.

We learned to trust the darkness would always give way to light. To treasure every moment with the courage of the stars. Know that gravity will always pull us back together. In the end, we knew our love will carry on, endlessly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for reading this far!! I truly appreciate all your support! I hope you enjoyed it!  
> I also made a video: https://youtu.be/lshgR21fibA  
> (I'm a much better editor than writer... although his is my first attempt in After Effects, but I digress)  
> Thank you all again! - and check out the video ;)


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